Rise of Superwoman
by Jardix
Summary: An alternate universe where Kara is dropped off at Wayne Manor instead of the Danver's house. She is eager to explore Earth and make it a better place through her work as a detective. A different take on the well known and loved TV show, with other familiar characters such as the Flash and other members of the Justice League. Be sure to check out the sequel, Superwoman: Injustice!
1. The Dark Building

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in the Supergirl universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.**

 **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is meant to be all of the same characters we know and love from Supergirl and the Flash, as well as the original Justice League cartoons. I am hoping to create a fun and exciting story with these characters, including mystery, suspense, action, comedy, and a little romance here and there. Please feel free to leave constructive criticism; I am always open to input from readers.**

Thank you, and I hope you enjoy this.

* * *

His name was Kal-El. The last son of Krypton; the chosen child to survive the catastrophe that annihilated his world. His story is well and often told; the Superman who saves the day any never dies. He flies, he's strong, he has bulletproof skin and a hundred other features that make him Superman. But this story is old. Well used.

Our story is different. Told every now and again, whispered in the shadows of that first great tale only when audiences seek something else. This is a story not for a story's sake, not to achieve some goal or convince you of some inner truth. It's not to 'even out the score' so that there is a female to go with the male, a weakness to go with that strength and a fresh and unique perspective to go on that time honored classic. It is a new story, a story not necessarily about fact, but about truth. About realistic circumstances and decisions. About a hero who doesn't start as a hero, and doesn't necessarily end as one either. The word 'human' comes to mind, but she's not really that, either. Perhaps we need a new word.

Not the perfect hero, not the evil villain, not the average human. Perhaps, champion? A champion of those who need her. A champion of the weak, to represent the invisible, solve the problem, and enact true justice in the world. Keep the stories of bold and brave heroes flying off into the sunset; we don't want to hear them anymore.

I think it's time for a new story, don't you?

Kara was scared. She was frightened, and her day wasn't getting any better. Twelve years old and she's watched her planet burn. Watched her family die. Watched her life go up in smoke.

Her friends were dead. Dead. That didn't even register with her. What is death, to a child? Absence. That's the only thing that makes sense. What was here is now gone.

And by that definition, her life was dead. Gone. Absent. No longer valid in any sense. Even her instructions, her orders, her hope of the future was gone.

"Protect Kal-El, Kara. Keep him safe."

The last words her father had ever spoken to her. She nodded quickly, panic and shock overriding any thoughts she had. She'd failed that mission almost immediately. Kal was an infant when they'd left Krypton; a baby wrapped in a blanket. Now...

She turned her head to look back at the mansion behind her. The tall man dressed in red and blue was still talking quietly with another man she'd never seen. It was hard to believe Kal-El had already turned into that man. Tall. Strong. Wise. A little handsome, come to think of it. He looked like a hero in every way. He was the hero, not her. He was protecting her, not the other way around.

The other man looked upset. He was tall too; he had a similar air about him. Of dignity and honor, but not the same heroic attitude. A darker and more realistic tone, maybe.

Kara almost didn't care. Kal didn't want her. He'd found her pod in the desert and pulled her out of it just as she'd imagined doing for him. He'd taken her away to someplace else, someplace as foreign to her as that first desert.

Now she sat on grass in a dark courtyard. She didn't like the feel of it; it prickled against her skin and her thin suit. The bugs kept buzzing around her face and she'd have to swat them away. The birds screeching and cawing in the trees sent shivers down her spine. Krypton had none of these. They were all new, but Kal had assured her they weren't dangerous.

The conversation looked like it was far from over. Kal and the other man were getting angrier with each other. Her hearing wasn't good; she couldn't make anything out. They were standing in front of a huge structure; it towered above her and made her feel small and feeble. As if it were a monster glaring down at the two Kryptonians, daring them to come closer.

Kal feared nothing. Kara... feared everything. Every movement, every sound, every smell... It was all too new. She missed Krypton so badly her gut ached and tears squeezed their way out of her eyes. She hugged her knees closer to her chest and closed her eyes tightly.

"Hi there."

Kara jumped as she heard the sound. She thought it was a voice, but she couldn't understand the language.

A boy emerged from the trees of the garden, smiling gently at her. He was shorter than Kal and the other man; weaker, too, from the lack of muscle. But kinder in a way that made her curious.

He sat down beside her and kept smiling, looking her over carefully. He didn't look much older than her, though with humans, she couldn't tell much. He was wearing a strange suit of clothing; black and smooth that came apart at the waist. His feet were bare, but calloused.

"My name is..."

"Damian!"

A harsh voice echoed across the yard, and both children whirled around.

The other man was glaring at Damian as if he'd done something terribly wrong. Kal looked sympathetic, but also concerned. Damian sighed and stood up.

"Coming."

Kara was left alone, and she was about to resume her brooding when Kal called her as well. She jumped up and ran to him, her legs numb with fear and worry. She almost plowed into him, and grabbed his hand tightly.

"Kara, this is where you're going to stay from now on." Kal said gently. Kara shook her head vigorously.

"I want to stay with you! I have to stay with you!" Kara squeaked, her lip trembling as she spoke. Kal knelt down to look her in the eye.

"I'm sorry, Kara." He sounded so heartbroken, it only terrified her more. "I can't stay with you. People here... They don't like me and you. I have to go, to protect both of us from them. But you need to stay here. You'll be safe here, and I'll come back and visit as often as I can."

Kara felt betrayed. Utterly abandoned. Her one last shard of hope was being dashed right in front of her. Kal made her turn to face the two others, and teary eyed, she did.

"This is Damian and Bruce. They're going to take care of you. There's going to be lots of space to play and grow, and lots of people to help you do that. These are good people, Kara."

Kara could tell neither of them could understand what Kal was saying. Another man came out of the giant building to join them; he looked much older and much kinder than 'Bruce'. Kara didn't like them. She didn't like the house, she didn't like the yard, and she didn't like her new life.

"I want to stay with you!" Kara repeated, pouring her heart and soul into the request. She could see Kal's resolve weakening.

"Clark. Stay or leave, but don't prolong this any more than you have to."

The other man, the mean looking one, said something she didn't understand in a tone that made her even more scared than before. Kal understood it, and looked angry.

"I'm coming back, Kara. I'll see you soon."

And then he was gone.

* * *

Fast paced, almost electronic instrumental music played in the background. It was a little funky for some people, but Kara liked it. It was her kind of style; loose, free, but catching and interesting to listen to.

She looked through her closet as she hummed along to the beat, sliding different pre-made outfits along the rack as she went. Fashion wasn't a major factor in her life; she arranged things that went together on one hangar and called it good.

She came across an old outfit she'd put together years ago, and pulled it out a little to consider it.

Black leather jacket, red flowing blouse, and black jeans with matching belt. She pursed her lips and made a funny face as she thought.

 _Yeah, that'll work for today._ She thought to herself. She pulled it out and threw it onto her bed before turning to the full length mirror in front of her bed. She made a habit of checking her appearance every day, only because otherwise she'd forget.

She was tall for a woman; maybe that was because she was Kryptonian, maybe that was because she was weird. Who knew?

Her long blonde hair was always in her way. She'd have cut it short a long time ago if Damian hadn't convinced her not to. He said she looked better with the long, flowing golden locks. She disagreed, but again, didn't care enough to force it. Damian was just being nice, trying to help her acclimate to human culture. That's what his father had ordered him to do.

But Kara didn't want to acclimate. She was Kara Wayne; screw what other people thought. She checked for any obvious signs of neglect or issue, and then turned away from the mirror. Skin, tanned but not burnt. Eyes, open and not shooting laser beams. Expression, somewhere between 'drop dead' and 'I want to be somewhere else'. All was right with the world.

Her apartment was small compared to some of the others in the area, but she didn't need much. A bed, a closet, a bathroom, and somewhere to prepare food... and the armory was a plus. She passed it as she made her way to the kitchen, eying the shiny new weapons inside the locked case.

Assault rifles and machine guns didn't fit her personality; she was more of a staff and sword kind of girl. Broadsword made from replica Damascus steel, Katana from a friend of Bruce in Japan, staffs of varying shape, size and material, not to mention the collection of knives.

Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Tim and Damian all loved their throwing stars and nets and other gizmo's like that. Kara had found that simply running or flying towards the enemy and _then_ attacking them worked much better.

Now dressed and wearing the appropriate level of makeup, according to Barbara, she concentrated on breakfast. Food was essential to Kara; she really couldn't go without it. She'd tried once, but it didn't go well. Her Kryptonian powers had their limits, evidently. Scared the tights off Damian, though.

A box of cereal, a bowl of oatmeal, and a microwave breakfast sandwich to go filled her up nicely. She hated the taste of coffee, and stuck to water or juice. Childish, maybe, but caffeine was no friend to her kind. Having super speed, strength, and attitude _and_ high energy levels didn't mix well. Plus, Damian called her a bad name last time. All she did was fly him up to the statue of liberty and hang him there by his underwear at one A.M.; the cussing was uncalled for.

Alfred cut her off the next morning and she was handed a glass of orange juice.


	2. National City

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in the Supergirl universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.  
** **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

* * *

As she walked, she heard the tell-tale buzzing of her phone. She whipped it out and up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Morning." Damian yawned on the other end and Kara smiled at the image that came to mind. Damian slept curled up in a ball under the nest of covers and often made phone calls while in this position.

"I'm headed to work, what's up?" Kara sidestepped a passing commuter as she made it onto the busy sidewalk of National City. The air was dirty, the streets were full, and the sky-scrapers towering overhead were full of people Kara didn't like. The list of 'cons' for living in National almost outweighed the 'pros'.

"I'll be straight with you; Clark called my dad and my dad called me and we're all wondering how you're doing. If you're alive and blending in well and not killing anyone without a really good reason..."

Kara laughed lightly as she heard the age old list of rules.

"Yes, kind of, and no, not lately. And if Kal wants to talk to me, he can call me himself." Kara repeated for the hundredth time. Kal was the name she called him, no matter what. 'Superman' sounded weird and 'Clark' sounded fake. He was stuck with Kal.

"He did. Fourteen times." Damian pressed.

"Oh, did he? Darn, I guess I missed that. Kind of like how he missed most of my life..." Kara practically growled. She crossed the street quickly and headed for the police station across town. Early morning traffic wasn't terrible, but it wasn't good, either.

"So you're just going to ignore him for the next thirteen years to make it even?"

"Yes, and thank you for doing the math. I really didn't feel like it this morning..." She joked. Kal was a good man overall. But when it came to family, he was clueless. He had a hard lesson coming, too.

"Look, Kara..." She stopped walking and sighed. That was his 'please don't make me beg' voice that always seemed to melt her. "He's your family."

"You just want his autograph." Kara accused, trying to dodge the issue.

"My dad is Batman. I don't need Superman's autograph." Damian shot back.

"Bruce and Kal, Damian. It's Bruce and Kal. No need for theatrics when you've known them for this long."

"Yeah, I don't have superpowers to back up that attitude you've got going. But thanks for the suggestion." Damian said sarcastically.

"My attitude isn't the issue; your problem with my attitude is. Now come and visit soon; I miss beating you at Call of Duty." Kara said sincerely.

"How can you miss something you've never known?" He joked.

"Same way you miss your girlfriend. Now I really do need to go. Talk you later." Kara had resumed walking and made it to the police station, and was actually eager to get inside. She definitely wasn't human if she enjoyed work, or so Damian had told her.

"Super-powered brat."

"Rich dork."

They both hung up after the usual fair well, and Kara headed inside.

National City had a lot of places where Kara could be. Clark had suggested reporting and journalism for obvious reasons. Bruce had suggested business or politics. He even offered to give her her own company. Alfred had suggested gardening, and she honestly considered that one. But in the end, police work was her choice.

She wanted to solve problems, not report them. And sitting behind a desk writing checks and having board meetings just didn't sound right to her. So she went to college, got a degree in Criminal Justice, and was now working as a detective in National City's worst precinct.

Kara loved the work. She hated seeing the victims, but loved assuring them that things were going to turn out okay. Watching an entire planet burn had put that into nice perspective for her; there was always another planet. And even if the law failed, if the perpetrator got away, or if the killer was never officially found, justice was served. One way or the other.

Bruce hated killing. The rest of the Bat-family were a little less sure on the matter. Kara didn't mind it all. Take a life, forfeit a life. It was that simple. If you proved that you weren't capable of living in a decent society, it was over. No one who hurt a woman or a child was going to come back. There was no fixing that; not in her mind. If she found a murderer, they either went to prison for life or she dug a hole. It was that simple. And she had no regrets.

She checked in at the front door, waved to her 'friends' on the force, and sat down at her desk. Friends knew you, and you knew them. No one outside the Wayne manor knew her, so they didn't count as friends. She might have gone out to eat with them, celebrated a resolved case with them, and even dated a few of them for fun, but they weren't her equals. They never would be. She didn't see the need to act like it was any different.

"Kara, I found a new lead on that case." A folder was slapped down onto her desk, and she turned to see the man who was standing beside her.

Barry Allen was the one exception to her rule of distance. He was a good guy; funny, down to earth, and trustworthy. He had one of those endearing personalities that made even his enemies like him to some degree, and his smile had this weird way of affecting people. Like he had the ability to hypnotize people into doing what he wanted.

It wasn't true, of course. People said 'no' to him all the time. And if he had powers, she'd know about it.

"Really? I thought that trail was going cold." Kara turned flipped open the folder and read it quickly as he explained. Her old wooden desk was in the corner of the building, and they were rarely interrupted. Between her intimidation methods and his 'I have nothing to hide' attitude, few people bothered them.

"Yeah me too, but then I found this." He pointed to a new photo that he must have printed out that morning. Kara could still smell the wet ink and see the smudge from where he'd hastily grabbed it. If she focused too much, she could see the individual dots of ink on the paper. She had to concentrate on seeing the larger picture before anything made sense.

The picture was of poor quality; it was probably a security camera off of a gas station or something. The grainy, black and white image barely managed to show the woman standing on the street corner.

"And now the next image..." Barry pulled out the next photo from the yellow folder and put it on top of the first.

Now there was a black van blocking the view of the girl from the camera.

"And finally..." He put the last one on top of the stack, and the image was clear. No girl, no van.

"Looks like the standard for this case." Kara said, mildly distracted. She kept going over it again and again, trying to find something new that would lead them to a suspect.

"Check out the date." He pointed to the upper left hand corner of the photo, and his famous smile emerged.

"June tenth... that's the window!" Kara said excitedly. She spun around and pinned the photo on the huge wall behind her, right alongside the other twenty.

"Yep. Turns out this guy is consistent. That's a total of twenty kidnappings in twenty months, all with the same MO." Barry summed up. He leaned against the desk behind her as they both poured over the information again.

Almost two years ago, a strange case had come to the two detectives. People were going missing; but that was nothing new. People went missing every day. They were adults, they were allowed to vanish if they wanted to. But then the photos started coming in.

Their kidnapper was smart. Cunning. Detail oriented. Grainy, black and white photos like the new one were all they could scrape up. A witness report here, a strange sound reported there, and they had a thinly painted picture of the crimes.

Girls of the age twenty and up were going missing. They all left their homes or apartments alone, all made it to an empty part of town either by accident or intent, and were all snatched shortly after. Always a black van, always a quick getaway, and no new leads. There only clue so far was that on June tenth, exactly one month after one disappearance and one month before, they hadn't found anything. Their kidnapper had slipped and deviated from his pattern.

Or so they thought.

"Who does this? So precise, so detail oriented, so exact? An OCD killer?" Kara asked, mostly to herself.

"Not a killer, officially. No bodies yet." Barry reminded her, somewhat hopefully. Neither of them had much hope of finding these girls alive anymore.

"No leads, either. Any license plate on the van?" Kara asked, already knowing the answer.

"Nope. Went by too fast."

"Any witnesses?"

"Nope, they took her too fast."

"Anything new at all?" Kara begged. Barry shrugged and gave her a pained look.

"I wish I could say yes, but... no." He let his shoulders fall and turned back to the board. "Well, this one was pretty too."

Kara sighed and shook her head. "That's probably not a good sign."

All of the victims had been pretty, even beautiful. All young, almost exactly the same age, thin, athletic, healthy... The perfect girls that everyone either wanted to be or wanted to be with. At this rate, there'd only be ugly girls left in National City by the end of the year.

"I wish these guys would come after me." Kara said sincerely.

"I don't know, I think you might be _too_ pretty for them. Notice that all of the super models in town are safe." Barry said with a grin.

Kara laughed and gave him a look. "Oh, Barry! Are you hitting on me again? Because that was really funny last time. Here, let me get my camera! My family needs to laugh some more. Go on!" She pulled out her phone and made a show of recording him.

"Wayne! Allen!"

A sharp, annoying voice hit them both at once, and they turned around to see a short, overweight, African American man come jogging up.

"Are you laughing in front of the pictures of dead girls? Are you joking while working on a months old case?" He demanded, his eyes bugging out as he stared at them. Kara's nickname for his was 'squeezed hamster' and Barry begged her not to use it out loud on a regular basis.

"Sorry, sir, it was my fault. We're getting back to work now." Barry said seriously, submissively standing at attention as their Lieutenant railed.

"You'd better be! I have a no tolerance policy around here for slacking! Get the lead out of your pants!" He shouted at Barry, who only nodded. Kara had to a lot of effort into not char-broiling the man right there in the middle of the police station.

"You shouldn't have to take that." Kara growled as soon as he was gone. Barry raised his eyebrows and dug his hands into his pockets.

"Doesn't matter. We're here to help people, not make friends with our boss." As he spoke, he started nonchalantly organizing files and folders on Kara's desk.

"How diplomatic of you." She started un-organizing them at the same speed.

"He's arrogant, infuriating, and a complete airhead. He has no grasp on reality and wouldn't last a day without his badge and gun."

"And yet if he hears you say any of that, you're out of a job." Barry reminded her. He set up the last of the binders on her desk between two book ends, and she promptly stacked them haphazardly on the edge of the desk.

"I'm only in this to help people. The day he stops me from doing that, I'm gone." Kara said with an air of finality.

Barry laughed softly and agreed. "Yeah, well, some of us have other goals, so maybe lay off the insults for my sake?" He asked pleadingly.

"Fine." She turned back to the board, staring hard at each of the faces there. Young. Pretty. Healthy. And gone in a flash. Not _the_ Flash; he was an associate of Kal and Bruce's and normally kept his nose clean. Besides; she'd heard he was complete screw-up that needed a handler to function properly in life. Damian always had an unkind word for the poor guy.

"Hey, what about that idea you had?" Barry asked suddenly, his brow furrowing as he thought.

"What do you mean? What idea?"

"You said you wish these guys would come after you; what if we let them?" Barry shot a sideways glance at her, who immediately smiled.

"I've got a special knife I've been sharpening just for them. Tell me more." Kara slipped the knife in question out of her pocket and started tossing it up in the air and catching it by the blade.

Barry looked a little nervous and took a step away from her as he outlined the plan.

"All of these girls seem to be in the right place at the right time. If they don't see a target, they make one, and somehow manage to rework traffic to get a quiet place to work. So what if we give them a good target?" Barry suggested.

"You mean have me go out in my best dress and try to lure our guy in? Sounds a lot like my first school dance." Kara joked.

"You must have gone to a weird private school if no one asked you out. And do you even own a dress?" Barry asked suspiciously.

Kara shrugged it off. "I can borrow one. Or buy one. I don't know; do you have any I could use?"

Barry grinned his 'I don't think that's funny but don't have a comeback' smile and stayed quiet.

"I like the idea, though. Let's do it."


	3. A Flash

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in the Supergirl universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.  
** **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

* * *

"You know, you look good in red!"

"Shut up, Barry."

Kara was in a bad mood. The chill wind on her almost bare shoulders wasn't freezing, but it was that annoying level of cold that made you want to reach for a jacket. She'd been out on the street corner for over four hours and it was coming up on midnight now. She was tired and ready for to kill someone or take a nap, whichever came first.

She'd eaten a very light dinner and had deeply considered ordering takeout or pizza, but thought that might blow her cover. Barry, however, was sitting in a nice and warm police van with a rapidly disappearing box of donuts. His commentary was getting old.

"We should do this more often; you actually look good in a dress." Barry snickered, with just a touch of sincerity. Barbara had literally flown to her apartment when she got the call from Kara and had a suitcase full of outfits that Kara normally wouldn't be caught dead in. When the eager stylist realized it was for a case and not a date, her enthusiasm shriveled up and died.

She was probably back in Gotham already, in her warm apartment, with a big dinner and a few gallons of ice cream...

Kara tried to shake the the thought and scanned the area again. She was on the corner of an old housing district, and there wasn't a soul in sight. Old chain link fences, older brick buildings, and the dirtiest streets Kara could ever remember seeing were her only companions.

She saw nothing with her 'human' vision, nothing on X-ray, and no sounds other than the wind rustling through garbage and the occasional dog barking.

"So, I was uh... thinking that uh... maybe sometime we should..."

"Barry, save it. We're on duty." Kara snapped, harsher than she'd meant. Barry had a certain tone of voice when hitting on a woman, and hearing it come over the radio just then hit a nerve.

 _He should be focusing on the case, not his pathetic love life._

Another sigh and another glance around the empty corner revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Her hand was halfway to her radio when Barry spoke up again.

"Kara, I'm sorry, I was just-"

"Shut up."

"I just wanted to-"

"Shut up, Barry, I hear someone coming!"

The concern and eagerness in her voice finally cut through Barry's train of thought. He leaned closer to the screen in the police van, shoving aside the empty box of donuts to get a better look. He could see Kara, leaning against a building with purse in hand and scowl in place, and he could also see a vehicle approaching.

"I see it too; it's a black van just like the rest. I'm on my way!" Barry jumped out of the chair and grabbed the nine-millimeter out of his holster, pulse pounding as he ran around the corner.

Kara didn't hear him. She was focused entirely on the van, trying desperately not to act suspicious. She had a purse in her left hand filled to the brim with weapons. She heard the squeal of tires on the cracked asphalt and gingerly reached inside. She felt the cool metal of the knife's handle on her palm, and she closed her fingers around it. A faint smile escaped on her lips, and she turned to face where the van would inevitably pull up.

The side door opened, Kara whipped out the knife, and a blinding flash appeared out of no where. Kara's world went dark, and she fell to the pavement.

* * *

"Kara, wake up!"

Damian was at it again. Waking her up in the middle of the night to prank some unsuspecting victim. She normally went along with it, but she wasn't in the mood tonight. She was too tired, and her head ached too badly to think, let alone electrify another toilet.

"Kara, please, please wake up!"

Damian's voice sounded different; was he in trouble? Had Alfred finally figured out who'd broken his favorite tea pot? Kara definitely didn't want to get in the middle of that disaster. She tried to roll over, but Damian has holding her arm and shaking her.

"She's alive, I think, just stunned! Kara, please wake up!"

Her eyes eventually cracked open enough to recognize where she was. Instead of seeing her bedroom ceiling, she was looking at stars. Not the blinding lights of a concussion, but real stars and a crescent moon.

"She's coming around! Kara, can you hear me?"

It wasn't Damian's voice jerking her back to reality, it was Barry's. And he sounded terrified. She turned to face him, and the look of utter horror on his face cemented the idea that she was _not_ in Wayne Manor.

"What? What happened?" Kara jumped up so fast she almost flew, and landed right back onto her butt when the headache returned in full force.

"Ow! What hit me?" Her hands flew to her head and she squeezed her eyes shut again as the pain made her want to throw up.

"I... I don't know. I think you got shot!" Barry's voice was trembling as he spoke, and he was nervously fidgeting as he knelt over her. His gun was lying beside him with a pile of casings nearby. The chamber had clicked onto empty and he hadn't bothered to reload it.

"What?" She made him repeat the sentence before it made sense in her head. She'd been shot. Point blank to the forehead. That's why she was unconscious and felt like there was a vise attached to her temples.

"I'm fine; I think it just grazed me." She lied, managing to work past the searing pain.

Her dress was torn when she fell and now covered in dirt. It was low cut and short to begin with; lying awkwardly on the pavement made it almost indecent. She jerked up the top before Barry noticed and cursed herself for letting Barbara talk her into it.

"Yeah, I guess it did. How many fingers am I holding up?" Barry held out a hand and Kara tried to count.

"Uh, four. Really, I'm fine."

"Yeah, I'm sure." Barry put down his two fingers and helped her to her feet.

"Did they get away?" Kara moaned, glancing around at the empty street.

Barry sighed and folded his arms. "No Kara, I singlehandedly stopped a moving van and then rendered it invisible so I could take care of you. Here, let me find it again..." Barry made a show of groping around in the empty street for a moment before Kara smacked him harder than she'd meant to.

"Stop being a jerk. Did you get anything off of it?"

Barry sighed again and the look of anger faded. He ran his fingers through his hair and remembered his gun, still sitting on the sidewalk.

"Not really. No plates, no model number, no good look at the suspects. I did put a few rounds in the back of it, though." He gestured at the piles of shell casings next to him, and Kara stored that information away for later use.

"Let's get back to the station and report what happened; and then I need a shower and a change of clothes. This dress sucks." She kicked out of her heels and scooped them up in her hand, fuming at the total failure after so many hours of work.

"I parked our van around the corner. It's not far." Barry holstered his weapon and slipped off his leather jacket as walked.

"Here."

He slid it onto her shoulders and Kara gratefully pulled it closer. Krypton was hot and Gotham was muggy; cold National City nights had been bothering her since she'd moved in. Lying on the sidewalk in a skimpy dress hadn't helped that, either.

"So I guess they made us." Kara said resignedly, blinking in frustration.

"I guess so. We were so careful!" Barry looked ready to hit something, and ended up kicking an empty coke can down the alley's length.

"Maybe it was the van, maybe it was the timing, maybe it was me fidgeting and acting like an idiot for the past hour." Kara ran her fingers through her hair and pulled it out of the ponytail it had spent the night in. A wad of ancient gum had gotten stuck in one strand, which she pulled out with a disgusted look on her face.

"Next time we need bait, you're putting on the dress and heels." Kara said seriously. Barry met her stare and stopped walking, trying to decide if she was serious.

They were both cold, tired, and stressed out after the failure, and Barry especially was ready to snap. But as soon as Kara cracked the joke, they immediately lightened up. Barry's signature grin lit up his face, and he shook his head as he laughed.

"Yeah, that's fair! I'll put on some red spandex or something and run around the streets all night. You stay in the van and hit on me while gorging on donuts; we'll call it a date!"

Kara laughed at the image that gave her and almost fell over as she walked. Barry grabbed her arm, they rounded the corner, and the man waiting for them at the van raised an eyebrow.

"I take it you're okay?"

"Da- I mean, Robin!" Kara caught herself at the last second, while Barry looked entirely floored.

Damian Wayne, dressed in the Robin armor, was leaning against the van door with his bike parked nearby. Black leather and Kevlar covered his chest and arms while a thick black mask left only his jaw and eyes exposed. He looked less than thrilled to see the couple coming out of the alley.

"Robin! Wow, I am such a huge fan!" Barry's eyes were wide and his mouth hung down almost to the ground. Kara looked a little less star-struck and suddenly realized why her brother had gotten into the habit of calling his family by their code names. She hoped Barry hadn't heard her first reaction.

Damian eyed Barry suspiciously and shook his head in derision. "I heard you were shot; are you alright?" He asked Kara sincerely.

"I'm fine... but how did you...?" She thought about how to phrase the question with her partner still standing next to her when Damian came to the rescue.

"I literally heard you getting shot a few blocks back. I traced the van as far as the south end of the city, but lost it in traffic under the highway overpass. Are you alright?"

Kara was halfway grateful for the help, and halfway suspicious as to why he was in National City. Last she'd heard, he was resting up in Gotham after being beaten half to death in Bludhaven.

"Oh, thank you! And yes, I'm fine. It just grazed me, I guess."

They all stood in awkward silence, each one wanting to say more but keeping quiet for everyone else's sake. Damian looked Kara over to see if she was hurt, and snickered as he saw the dress. He glared at Barry in a protective-brother kind of way, and turned to hop on his motorcycle.

"Stay safe." Damian revved the engine, and he was gone a second later.

Barry watched him go, still wide-eyed and starstruck as all get out, while Kara tried to figure out if she'd slipped in her act.

"Wow, that guy is so amazing! He actually gets to run around in costume and protect the city. I wish I could do that."

There was a strange edge to his voice that Kara assumed was jealousy. Barry wasn't quite superhero material; he had little to no muscle tone, he weighed maybe a hundred pounds on his best day, and his first reaction to seeing danger was usually to scream. How he'd managed to empty his gun into the fleeing van, she didn't know.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Kara had to drag her partner into the van, and moments later, they were gone as well.


	4. You scream, the cops come, it's awkward

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in the Supergirl universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.  
** **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

* * *

Despite the troubles of all the residents of earth, the sun still rose the next morning. It was one of the few constants in so many lives; the unassuming little orb in the sky that was always on time. Bright yellow light streamed over National City one more time, and dawn arrived too quickly for Kara.

Her bed was never made. The black sheets and comforter were merely arranged to cover its occupant at any given time. The pillows were near the top of the bed, but sometimes drifted lower or even fell on the floor before being scooped up and plopped back down randomly.

Kara didn't mind it. Some things in her life needed to be kept in perfect order. Her bedroom wasn't one of those things. She was drifting in and out of consciousness under the sheets as the sun's rays hit her, forcing her back to reality.

A low moan escaped her and she dragged a pillow over her head in protest. At Wayne manor, you got up at sunrise; no matter what. Alfred was strict on that rule; no matter how many hours you spent running around on rooftops the night before, sun rise was time to wake up. No exceptions.

At least in National City, there was no one to dump a pitcher of water onto her if she didn't get up on time. She enjoyed that immensely, and often slept in just to secretly spite the old butler. There was no Damian to drag her out on another adventure, no Alfred to poke and prod her into proper behavior, no Barbara to tell her how to dress...

Dick, Tim and Bruce were rarely as involved. Batman, Robin, and Nightwing had other priorities, after all. So did Barbara the Batgirl, to be fair, but her to a lesser degree. She was backup, and needed at home to take care of their newest family member. The idea of having a sister had always thrilled the older girl, and having one who was totally willing to go along with her sense of fashion was a dream come true.

It was no wonder that as soon as Kara was out of the manor, her daily life slowed down a bit. No hours-long morning routines to get ready to go out into the world. No pranking or messing around with the residents of the mansion. No lessons on being proper or human-like.

And yet, as Kara spotted the picture on her night stand, she realized she did, in fact, enjoy it. Life at the manor wasn't normal, but then again, what was normal?

She reached out and pulled the photo closer to her to examine it once again. It was of her and Damian out on the lawn, back in the first year she'd spent on Earth. Damian was trying to show her how to play baseball, ball and bat in hand. He looked so eager, so friendly, and so honestly glad to have a friend. They were overlooking the cliff that led to the ocean, and Kara still smiled at the memory of that day.

Damian had tossed her the ball, and Kara had hit it for all she was worth in an attempt to impress the boy. The crack of the bat against the ball was so loud Bruce came running out of the house, and Damian thought the bat had shattered. He was still busily checking them both over for injuries when they thought to look for the ball.

For all Kara knew, it had ended up in China. Or at least in orbit; they never saw where it landed.

Damian had laughed, and once Kara realized he wasn't laughing at her, she joined in. Alfred smiled in his reserved way, and Bruce relaxed enough to see that the newcomer was fitting in fine.

Kara put the picture back on the night stand and threw the covers off with a yawn. Despite her desire to sleep for another few days, she really did have to get up. Her bare feet touched the cold hardwood floor, and she slowly made her way to the bathroom.

Growing up in a house full of Waynes and adopted Waynes wasn't the worst thing for the young alien to go through. Damian could understand having a complicated family life; his mother was an assassin and his father hadn't known he existed until... well, neither one had ever told how they'd met. But Damian lived at the manor, and had since he was younger than Kara.

Then there was Alfred, who'd raised Bruce and then Damian before Kara came along. He was a mystery just like the rest; did he have a family? Did he have a home other than the manor? How was it that he managed to raise two generations of heroes and not think anything of it?

Kara had asked questions like those non-stop when she'd first learned English. Her very first sentence start with the word 'why'. She had been so curious back then; so eager to learn. But Bruce wasn't so much a teacher as an instructor. He had a set of answers to go with a set of questions; this is how you fight, this is how you blend in, this is how you protect people. How tall will grass get if you don't mow it wasn't in that list of answers.

Alfred was kind hearted, but his attitude was more of 'I don't need to know.' than 'Let's find out.' Tim and Dick were always distant; trying purposely to keep away from the young Kryptonian. She was powerful, she was new, and she was breakable. Kara suspected Bruce had told them to stay away, and the lesson stuck with them. Had Bruce's orders been followed, she wouldn't have even known Damian's name.

Barbara was a woman and knew things that other women needed to know. That's how Bruce thought of it, anyway. And Alfred knew everything he needed to, so he made a perfect father/grandfather. Clark could explain to him how her powers worked, and she would grow up as protected as possible.

And then Damian came along and it all went so, not, according to plan.

Kara returned to her closet and opened the sliding door slowly, still shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. The hot shower had woken her up some, but the enticing bed next to her was starting to become a temptation.

She quickly pulled out a set of clothes and slipped them on before performing her daily appearance check.

Hair, loose and tucked behind her ears. Eyes open and glaring out at the world. Expression... expressionless. Exhaustion had a way of sapping her normal attitude. Dark green sweater, darker blue jeans, and the usual steel toed boots. She was ready to leave, and might even be Barbara approved.

The apartment was small enough that her bedroom opened up into the living room; if it could be called that. There was a TV and a couch and room for nothing else. Next to that was the kitchen, which was equally small. A refrigerator, a small stove and oven she hadn't used yet, a microwave and cabinets full of paper plates.

Washing dishes was a punishment chore for 'misbehaving children' at the Wayne manor. Kara had taken a solemn vow to never wash another plate in her life. It was more than worth the money to her, and she ate out more than she ate in anyway.

The feast known as breakfast started out as usual; bacon, eggs, toast, cereal, orange juice and a bowl of fruit were all on the table and ready to be devoured as Kara sat down at the tiny kitchen table. There were two chairs and barely enough room for Kara's meager meals; if someone else came over to eat, they had to use the couch.

The telltale sound of a her doorbell echoed through the small apartment right as Kara shoveled the last of her bacon into her mouth. She groaned softly and stood up, wiping her hands on the curtains as she passed a window.

There was a lock on her door that hadn't been used yet; she figured she could handle any thieves dumb enough to try and steal from her. She peered through the peephole with one eye closed and then X-rayed the door.

The door opened at Kara's touch, and Damian Wayne stood on the other side, arms folded and brooding over something. The Robin costume was gone, replaced with the usual black leather and denim.

"We have a problem." He said solemnly.

Kara swallowed six pieces of bacon at once before she could speak properly.

"What is it?"

Damian reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a disk.

"We haven't played Call of Duty in months."

The pretend-tension melted away, and Kara wrapped her brother in a gigantic hug. He almost fell over as she tackled him, arms around his throat and head buried in his neck. A huge smile appeared on both of their faces, and Kara started laughing.

"It is so good to see you!" She yelled, not caring if she woke up everyone in the building.

Damian managed to work his way free of the bear hug, and she slugged him in the gut without warning.

He sank to the ground, red in the face with the wind knocked out of him. Kara leaned over him, still smiling. "And that's for showing up in costume in front of my coworker, so I couldn't hug you without blowing your cover. Dork."

Damian was in no shape to answer, so she picked him up with one arm and carried him into her apartment by the collar of his jacket. The door slammed behind them with enough force to shake the whole wall, and more excited laughing filled the air.

* * *

"Where are you?" Damian demanded, eyes glued to the screen.

"Why would I tell you that?"

"Because you're a good sister and you love me?" Damian tried, batting his eyes at Kara hopefully.

"Dream on." Kara laughed and easily resisted his charms.

They were both sitting on her tiny couch, with the gaming system hooked up and the newest version of Call of Duty running on the screen. They were each holding a controller, hunting the other one down in a maze of abandoned buildings.

"Don't snipe me, don't snipe me!" Damian pleaded, jamming his control stick forward. A single shot echoed over the speakers.

"And you sniped me..."

"You move too slow! Look at that, head shot!" She laughed as she saw the slow-motion replay of Damian's character hitting the dirt, with her own sniper far in the distance chambering another round.

"So. What's new with you, besides the sudden video game skill?" Damian said dryly.

Kara shrugged and rolled her eyes.

"This case is crazy right now and if I think about it any more, my head's going to explode. Tell me about League stuff."

Damian wasn't technically Robin; that was Tim Drake's title. He just stole Dick's old suit when he wanted to run around the city at night and mess with people. So because he wasn't technically associated with Batman, he wasn't allowed in the League's business. Naturally, he hacked Bruce's computer and found out anyway.

"Well, they got a new team member recently that sounds cool." Damian said casually as he slid down a rooftop, shotgun in hand. "Dude's an alien from another planet."

"Whoa! I didn't know aliens existed!" Kara said sarcastically. Damian took a shot at her character in response.

"He goes by the name of John Jones. Sounds totally real, right? Anyway, he claims to be the last survivor of Mars."

"Mars?" Kara questioned, shooting Damian in the back. Her brother groaned in annoyance before going on.

"Yes Mars. Apparently a couple thousand years ago it was a pretty nice place. This guy is the last survivor of a huge civil war that decimated the planet. He hopped into a stasis pod halfway through, thinking he'd just fast forward to when there was peace again."

"And he woke up now? That sucks." Kara sounded empathetic as she threw a grenade under a truck Damian was hiding in.

"Yeah. He almost died flying here and was picked up by your cousin circling the moon. The guy's green, by the way. Way cooler than you human-like Kryptonians." Damian grinned. Then the grenade went off and he resumed his frown.

"Does he do anything else? Besides fly and turn green, I mean?"

"Yeah. He walks through walls, shape shifts into anyone he wants, and reads minds." Damian forced his character to crawl in a window and hide under a table.

"Hmm. I'll take heat vision and super-speed any day." Kara lit the building on fire and waited by the door with a round in the chamber.

"Maybe we'll meet him someday. I'm personally hoping to get a better look at that Amazonian that's hanging around lately." Damian said eagerly as Kara stood over him, shooting him repeatedly.

"She'd squash you like a bug and offer you up to Hera on a silver platter." Kara predicted mercilessly.

Damian exited out of the game and slid the disk out of the console. "Well I don't see your boyfriend hanging around!"

Kara tossed the controller aside and leaned back against the couch.

"When I want a boyfriend, I'll get one. I'm fine concentrating on work and kicking your butt at the moment."

At the word 'work', Damian tensed up and shot another question her way.

"Speaking of work, what do you think about that guy you were working with last night?" He asked suspiciously.

Kara shrugged and gave him a weird look.

"What do you mean? I work with him. Nothing else going on there."

Damian looked less than convinced.

"Oh, right. Okay, whatever you say. Just curious." Damian slid the disk back into his pocket and started to leave, knowing full well Kara would stop him.

"What, you think I'm hot for him?" Kara demanded, flying over the couch to get between him and the door.

"Your words..." Damian joked, holding out his hands as if in defeat. Kara narrowed her eyes at him.

"Let's you and I have a talk, friend."

* * *

"Not cool! Let me go!" Damian screamed, flailing wildly against Kara's grip.

"Rephrase that." Kara smiled.

"Put me down, on the ground, without killing me!" Damian shouted, trying to be heard over the wind.

They were flying over the city, zooming past the tops of buildings at alarming speeds. Damian was being held by his ankle, getting an interesting view of the city below.

"Don't be dramatic! I wouldn't _kill_ you..." Kara argued. They swooped past another sky-scraper, and this time Damian could see people through the glass.

"Don't horrible injure or main me! That specific enough?" Damian demanded. Kara realized she'd gone too far and slowly descended to street level. Damian relaxed noticeably as they went, and she even made sure to head for an empty part of town. There'd be no one to see him get dumped into a trashcan or dumpster.

"You'll land somewhere nice and soft, I promise!" Kara's voice must have betrayed her intent, because Damian went stiff again and started shouting.

"Stop! Stop here!"

"Nope, you've still got some payback coming!"

"Kara! Black van!"

She finally stopped long enough to process what he was saying, and then landed immediately. She'd spotted it too.

They were in a bad neighborhood in an abandoned part of town. It was still light out, but that didn't seem to matter. There were no witnesses and no cameras. And now, there was a black van driving down the street, heading for a corner where a young woman was standing.

"Not again..."


	5. Catch and Don't Release

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am very curious to see how people are liking this variation of Kara and her friends. Please leave any feedback you have on the story so far; I really appreciate it and it helps shape the story to come.  
Should Kara be a little less serious?  
Should there be more characters from the Supergirl TV show? More DC comic characters?  
Are you liking the mystery so far, or would you prefer to focus more on Kara and the differences in her life here and the one from the show?  
All comments are read by me personally, and I am anxious to hear what you think. Please leave a comment or shoot me a private message, and I'll get back to soon. **

**Thank you, and I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.**

* * *

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in the Supergirl universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.  
** **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

* * *

The black van was still making its approach; they were going slower than normal. Their target, a young woman, was walking down the street in the opposite direction, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen to her.

Kara dropped Damian unceremoniously onto the pavement and landed gracefully beside him, arms out and toes pointed straight down like a ballerina. They were behind a parked car, and for the moment, hidden from view. Neither the girl nor the drivers of the van seemed to have noticed them falling out of the sky.

"Okay, what's our call? How far out do think backup is?" Damian whispered, peering over the dented hood of the old car.

Kara gave him a strange look and snorted. "Backup? I say we take them out!"

"We don't have any weapons…" Damian reminded her. Before he'd finished speaking, Kara had put a collapsible baton in his hand. She pulled a second one out of her boot and handed it to him as well.

"Okay, what about you?" He asked, not at all eager to attack blindly. He was hoping to talk Kara out of it, but it was becoming obvious that wasn't going to happen.

"Would you prefer a knife?" She whipped out a folding knife from another pocket and offered it to him handle first.

"What? Where are you even…?"

"I've got another too, if you need it. Come on, they're about to move!" Kara looked back at the van, which had slowed down considerably. The woman, dressed in a long trench coat with dark hair covering her eyes, hadn't even spotted them yet.

"Ready?"

Damian sighed and twirled his batons experimentally. "I guess."

"Now!"

The van's side door opened and slid along it's track towards the rear of the vehicle. Two men dressed all in black reached out, gloved hands grasping for their target. The woman finally caught on, and a scream died in her throat as she fell to the ground in terror.

None of them saw the flash of green and blue until one of the men had been ripped bodily out of the van and thrown onto the pavement. Kara slashed through the bulletproof vest's straps, kicked his knee out from under him with a satisfying crunch, and drove a balled fist into his gut. He flew backwards at an angle that would have carried him down the block, but Kara wasn't done with him yet.

She grabbed him by the ankle and a wrist and threw him into the van's windshield, shattering it into a blanket of razor sharp shards. With a predatory grin, she whirled around to face the others.

A flash of bright green was all that caught Kara's eye before the sword plunged into her stomach. She exhaled slowly as it sank into her, tearing the fabric of her sweater and rending the flesh underneath. The last thing she saw was the black lens of sunglasses.

"Kara!"

Damian didn't have super speed or strength; he had anger issues and a vengeance. By the time he saw Kara go down, he was halfway to the van. His vision started to turn red as he saw Kara's body go limp and sink to the pavement.

The man with the sword didn't stand a chance. He turned around right as Damian slammed the baton in his throat; as he spun, Damian slammed the second one into his temple. The man was out before he hit the ground.

Damian turned to the van and saw another body roll out, being shoved by the driver. Before Damian could move or think, the driver fired two shots and floored the accelerator. The van tore off and Damian screamed in frustration. He'd only gotten one; he'd been ready for another dozen.

He turned his attention to Kara, and more importantly, the sword still sticking out of her stomach. It was up at a ninety degree angle, the metal still glowing green. The blad was obviously Kryptonite, and forged into a deadly weapon. This was no random kidnapper or serial killer.

"Kara! Can you hear me?" Damian put a hand on her face as bent over her, checking for any signs of life. Blood was pouring out of the wound, soaking her clothes and the pavement under her. He could hear the sounds of the terrified woman behind him sobbing, but he didn't have the time or willpower to deal with her.

A hundred options all presented themselves to Damian at once. Get her to a hospital, call an ambulance, call Batman... the list went on and on. But her face was already pale, and far too much of Kara's blood was no longer in her body. Damian stole himself over and took a deep breath.

"Hold on!" Damian said pointlessly. He grasped the sword's handle in both hands like King Arthur pulling the sword out of the stone, and with a sickening sucking sound, the weapon came free.

Even more blood was coming out now, spilling down her side like a river. Damian's stomach turned as he saw it, and he had to fight to stay focused. The sword was still affecting her; she wouldn't heal until it was gone.

Naturally, Damian threw it as hard and fast as he could in a random direction. It clattered into the road and he anxiously watched the gaping hole in her stomach. Slowly, ever so slowly, the bleeding stopped. He couldn't tell if it was because she was healing, or dying.

"Kara! Kara, can you hear me?"

A tiny, faint sound came out of her. Damian bent over to listen more closely.

"Not... Again..."

She laughed and coughed as she came to, totally oblivious of how close she'd just been to death. Damian rolled back on his heels and almost fell over as he went. He let out a long breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and ran his hands over his face.

"Dang it Kara! Next time, wait for backup!"

"I had backup... you backup-ed just fine. Where's the...?" She slowly sat up, wincing in pain all the while, until she spotted the woman she was looking for. Damian had almost forgotten her entirely.

The woman looked to be about Kara's age, maybe younger. She had a very dark complexion, and true to the pattern, was incredibly beautiful. She looked a mix between shocked and terrified, and Kara quickly tried to calm her down.

"Hey! My name's Kara, I'm a detective from NCPD. I'm here to help you, okay?" Kara put a hand to her stomach and tried to stand up as she spoke. Damian grabbed her other arm and helped her to her feet, forcing her to lean on him.

"You... you... you just had a..." The woman stuttered on for a minute longer before Kara stopped her and smiled.

"Sword in my stomach. It happens. Look, I'm... special. Like Superman, or the Flash!" She was more than a little condescending as she tried to explain it slowly, but the woman didn't seem to mind.

"Way more 'special' than the Flash. Just saying." Damian added under his breath. Kara shot him a look and kept going.

"Look, I'm here to help you. That's all you need to know. Is it alright if I ask you a few questions?"

The woman nodded vigorously. Damian got the impression she'd have said 'yes' to anything at that point.

"Why are you out here today? Were you just out for a walk or...?"

"My... my boyfriend..." She stuttered, digging into her pocket with one hand. She was still sitting on the sidewalk where she'd fallen and didn't look anxious to get up.

"My boyfriend texted me... said to meet him around here..."

Kara and Damian exchanged suspicious looks. "Does he do that often? Ask you to meet him in places like this?" Kara asked.

The woman looked well dressed; definitely middle to upper class. The neighborhood they were in at the moment wouldn't have looked out of place in a third world country. Horror movies could have been filmed in the house they were in front of without needing any modifications.

"No... He sounded weird. But I figured he was stressed or scared; he said his car broke down..."

Damian gently took the phone out of her hand and played with it for a minute. Kara untangled herself from him and sat beside the woman on the sidewalk, still holding her stomach and grimacing. The woman still looked scared out of her mind, but was a little more calm now.

"Yeah, it's been hacked. Boyfriend probably has no idea you're even out here." Damian gave her the phone back and knelt down in front of her for sake of being at eye level.

"What...? That doesn't make any sense, how could...?" She went on and on, venting all of her fear in the form of a hundred and one questions they couldn't possibly answer. Kara pulled out her own phone and dialed a number. Damian recognized it and shook his head slowly.

"Barry? I need you to come to..." She read the street name and address to him quickly, while trying to be heard over the woman's babbling. "We got one. Suspects down and victim is secured."

As she spoke, Damian remembered something. The driver had fired two shots, but Kara hadn't been hit, and neither had he. He jerked his head up to check the woman, but she was fine too. He thought back to the angle of the man's arm, and slowly turned around to look.

Both suspects, the man with the sword and the man Kara had thrown through the windshield, were lying dead in a pool of their mingled blood. The driver had shot and killed them both before taking off.

Damian groaned and pointed towards them, making Kara curse and the woman panic even more.

"Make that two K.I.A.s and a live vic. Get over here, now."

* * *

Barry Allen, a few crime scene investigators, and half of the police force all arrived on scene within minutes. Evidence was bagged, pictures were taken, and Kara had broken the sound barrier flying back to her apartment for a change of clothes. How they were going to explain the pool of her blood, she didn't know.

Damian had hidden the Kryptonite sword before anyone arrived, and the woman had been convinced that stress and fear had made her see things that didn't happen. It was a weak excuse, but it was all they could come up with.

Kara was standing next to Damian on the sidewalk as the investigators swarmed, worked into a frenzy at the abundance of evidence. Their case had gone from a possible kidnapping to a full on conspiracy; everyone wanted a piece of the action.

"You need a suit. And a name." Damian argued again. Kara rolled her eyes.

"I have a badge and a gun; good enough."

"That woman saw you fly, survive being shish-kabobed, and now knows your name. Eventually, she's going to figure this out." Damian pointed out.

Kara sighed and blinked in frustration. "Maybe. Let's talk about this later."

She'd ended the conversation because Barry was now within earshot and holding a notebook and pen. He'd want a statement, and she'd have to lie through her teeth to one of her few friends.

"Kara, hey, are you alright?" He asked, genuine concern in his voice. Early as it was, Barry was already wide awake and on top of things. He'd somehow missed the huge pool of blood that had come from Kara, though, and it was starting to seep into the gutters. With luck, no one would see it at all.

"We're fine." Damian said quickly, a fake smile on his face. Barry returned the 'piss off' expression and turned to Kara.

"I'm fine, Barry. Damian and I were out for a walk and we got lucky. A van came out of no where and tried to grab her; we jumped in and fought them off." Kara said truthfully.

"I see. How'd they get shot? I didn't see any guns on either of you." Barry skipped past the part where his partner and her brother had taken down two heavily armed men in tactical gear like it was nothing She was grateful for that, but sure it would come up later.

"The driver. Before he left, he threw one of his guys out and shot them both in the head. Point blank, no hesitation." Damian filled in. He and Barry exchanged a less venomous look and Kara jumped in.

"These people are professionals. Weapons, armor, vehicles, men... this isn't just one guy out to kidnap a few girls. I'm thinking mob or possibly terrorist ties; someone with a lot of money and willingness to kill." Kara theorized.

The two dead men were being loaded into a morgue van as she spoke. The white plastic sheets covered most of them, but one bloodied hand had slipped out. Kara watched as the body was loaded in, and the swinging doors slammed shut. Killing was nothing new to her. But execution of your own men...

"Why would he do that? Kill his own people when he could have shot you?" Barry asked, seeming to read her mind.

Kara shrugged and shook her head. "I wish I knew."

* * *

Kara and Damian were told to go home and 'rest', which was code for 'calm down and try not to kill anyone else'. Barry promised he'd take care of everything and have all the evidence cataloged. The rest of the officers all looked at her with a new sense of respect, or maybe fear.

One of the men drove the two siblings home, rather than telling them to walk and hope no more men-in-black were out and about, and the car ride was very quiet. Both Kara and Damian had a thousand things to say, but with the officer in the front seat, they couldn't say much.

"We should call dad and tell him we're alright, before he sees this on the news." Damian suddenly said, proud that he'd said what he meant without sounding suspicious.

"I'll let you do that; I want to concentrate on the case. We have a lot more information now and I know I'm missing something." Kara said truthfully.

"He'll want to hear it from you. I have a habit of... stretching the truth... when it comes to reporting injuries." Damian said hesitantly. Kara laughed in response.

"You had six broken ribs, a concussion, and a dislocated shoulder and you told dad you stubbed your toe. Gee, I wonder why he doesn't trust you anymore..." Kara said sarcastically.

The driver looked curious, so Damian quickly made something up.

"Dirt bike accident. But this is a little more serious; you might want to call your cousin, too." Damian hinted.

"Why? I'm alive and the situation is handled. No need to involve him."

Damian started to speak and then stopped, rephrasing at the last second. "Well, that splinter you got earlier looked pretty serious and Clark has experience with... splinters. He might have some tips or information on something like that."

The driver raised an eyebrow at Kara through his rear view mirror.

"It got infected; he's a... doctor..." Kara lied. "Maybe." She told Damian.

"If you don't, I will."

The car stopped at Kara's apartment, and they both got out after thanking the officer. It was approaching noon now, and the bright sunshine seemed to purposely contrast Kara's mood. She'd almost have preferred a dark and stormy night to brood and mull over things.

"If you do, I'll hurt you." Kara said sweetly.

They made their way up to the apartment together, neither one speaking again.


	6. For the Win

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in the Supergirl universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.  
** **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

* * *

Kara and Damian went over all of it. Every note and detail Kara could remember and every suggestion Damian had. He was a pretty good detective himself after helping with so many of his family's cases; Kara had no doubt he could do her job with ease.

But in the end, they were no closer. It didn't add up; the kidnappers were so low profile and so off the books they had to be private. But what private company or organization would be interested in kidnapping random women? There were still a lot of pieces missing, and it was driving Kara crazy.

Kara was hungry, as usual, and so was Damian. Unfortunately, Kara had eaten all the food in the apartment. She was terrible about shopping on a regular basis, which Damian couldn't understand. He suggested they go out to eat, and Kara was out the door.

It was still around lunch time as the two left her apartment complex, trudging down the metal staircase slowly as they thought. Both of them had studied Kara's notes until their eyes were burning, and still nothing had jumped out at them. Frustration and hunger weren't a good combo for the Kryptonian, so Damian was more than eager to get to a restaurant.

"Let's think about something else; leave this on the back burner for a while." Kara suggested, walking quickly down the sidewalk. There was a diner around the corner she frequently visited and she could practically smell the burgers on the grill.

"Agreed. How's your stomach?" Damian had to almost jog to keep up with her, and wasn't nearly as adept at weaving through the heavy foot traffic. He was more tuned to rooftops and dark alleys.

"I'm fine. It probably won't even scar."

"Man I wish I could do that..." Damian said jealously, still staring at the spot he'd ripped the sword out. "If _I_ took a broadsword to the gut, I'd be out for more than five minutes."

Kara laughed at the thought. "Yeah, you with the ability to fly and pick up cars... that'd be a good idea."

Damian looked offended.

"Excuse me? I can be responsible when I want to!"

Kara shot him a skeptical look.

"Okay, fine, I'd probably mess around a little, but so do you!" He accused, pointing a finger at her.

They'd arrived at the small corner diner, and he held the door open for his sister as they entered. They lowered their voices before speaking again as they found a quiet table in the back.

"Yes, yes, I'm very unprofessional. Happy?"

"No, because that was sarcasm. Say it with more feeling!" Damian held his hands out like a director commanding his actress on stage.

"Honey, do you finally have a boyfriend?" A feminine, southern-twang voice called out shrilly. Damian jumped and Kara almost choked.

"No, Anne, this is actually my brother Damian." Kara introduced the waitress at her side to her brother and laughed at the suspicious look on her face. Anne was in her fifties, blonde, and the poster-girl for southern hospitality. But she didn't like most men who came into the diner, and she seemed to have the same issue with Damian.

"Damian, huh?" She asked, purposely mispronouncing it. "I read the Latin, you know! That means devil! You must be a real trouble maker." She turned and leaned closer to Kara.

"You just let me know if you need him hauled out by the ear. I'll do it, you know!"

Kara bit her tongue in an attempt not to laugh again and thanked her. "Can I get the usual, Anne?"

Anne sighed and glared at Damian again. "Of course, sugar. And a pitcher of holy water for the demon spawn."

She ran back to the kitchen on their left, heels clicking angrily as she went. No one even noticed; her personality was well known among the regular patrons.

"She didn't take my order..." Damian said with a dumbfounded expression.

"Be glad she didn't kick you out."

Damian didn't respond, and Kara turned around in her chair to see what he was looking at. Behind her was a large window that looked out onto an intersection, which was usually full of cars and buses trying desperately to get somewhere. Today, there was something clogging up traffic across the street.

All Kara could see with her human vision was a news van that read 'Catco Worldwide Media'. There was a reporter and cameraman outside it, busily trying to get closer to something behind their van.

"Wonder what that's about?" Damian said under his breath. He was obviously concentrating hard on it, and Kara saw the opportunity to mess with him.

"That reporter is kind of cute; do you want to run over and get her number?" Kara grinned maliciously as Damian blinked in annoyance.

"Not what I was staring at. Check out the squad car around the corner." Damian nodded at the white and blue police vehicle just a few yards away from the reporter. It was parked in front of another restaurant, a fast food place, and Kara could guess what had happened.

"Blood-sucking reporters ambushed a uniform. Poor guy." Kara gave it no more thought and turned back to the table, which was rapidly filling with food.

Burgers, fries, drinks, sandwiches, and almost everything else offered on the menu was being brought out on platters to Kara's table. Damian whistled as he the next platter of steaks was put in front of him for lack of space.

"This is your 'usual'?"

Kara looked offended as she downed a huge hamburger in two bites. "Hey! When your idea of a workout is bench-pressing boxcars at the rail yard, you eat a lot to compensate!"

Damian shrugged and gingerly rescued a plate of chicken strips.

Kara was still devouring the meager offering set out by the diner's chef when Damian's attention was again forced to the reporter. He watched over Kara's shoulder as the woman, who was mildly pretty, stormed out of the fast food joint looking ready to kill someone.

Her cameraman was close behind her, looking like a servant ready to be whipped. Damian couldn't hear it, but the woman was loudly complaining about some terrible injustice. The cameraman was short, dark haired, and looked pretty young. Maybe their age, probably closer to twenty.

The woman was tall, exotic looking, and looked like she'd be a lot prettier without the furious shouting and glaring. Damian could appreciate a bad temper, but this woman took it to a whole new level. She ended up jumping into the van and slamming the door so hard the vehicle shook, and after a quick order to the cameraman, he headed their way.

The poor guy entered the diner like a shell-shocked veteran fresh off the fields of battle. He shook his head slowly and ran his fingers through his hair before approaching the counter.

"Cameraman, incoming. He looks cute; you should get his number." Damian teased.

Kara barely looked up from her plate full of chili-dogs. "Pass."

Unfortunately for Kara, the cameraman had other ideas. He'd just finished ordering something to the exact specifications of his angry partner when he happened to spot the pair in the corner. Most people noticed Kara; even as her adopted brother Damian understood that his sister was beautiful. When she wanted to be, she was down right gorgeous. But this guy had a look of recognition in his eye.

He slowly approached their table, hands grasping each other nervously behind his back. When he was still a pretty good distance from the table, he spoke so quietly Damian had trouble hearing him.

"Excuse me, aren't you Kara Wayne? The detective?"

Kara had to be nudged under the table before she stopped sucking down a milk-shake and turned to look at him.

"Pardon?"

"Kara Wayne, the detective from NCPD?"

The kid seemed persistent, and was growing more confident as he went. The waitress put another shake on the counter behind him, presumably for the angry reporter, but he didn't move.

"I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about that kidnapping case; word is there was a big bust this morning."

Kara already had her excuse ready. "Sorry, I can't talk about an ongoing case."

He didn't look fazed. "I know, but help me out here. My boss says until I actually accomplish something I'm stuck with Siobhan. Can you please tell me anything?" He begged, nodding at the fuming woman in the van for emphasis.

"Siobhan? Isn't that the Indian goddess of death or something?" Damian guessed.

The cameraman laughed a little and grimaced. "Yeah, close enough. I think she's actually part Gypsy or something; anyway about that case..."

"What did you say your name was?" Kara asked, pushing back an empty plate. If the newcomer had noticed her appetite, he was politely ignoring it.

"Winnslow Schott. Junior, technically, but most people call me Winn." He offered his hand, but quickly dropped it.

"I'm sorry, Winn, but I really can't talk about an ongoing case. Try the lieutenant down at the station; he might be able to tell you something I can't." Kara was sympathetic but firm; this wasn't the first time someone had asked that question.

Winn looked crestfallen and nodded as if to say 'of course not' and turned to leave.

"But you know, I'm _not_ a cop. So I can talk about anything I want." Damian said dramatically, turning in his seat to face Winn. He had a devious smile on his face that made Kara look up and raise an eyebrow.

"Really?" Winn sounded hopeful, and whipped out a notepad and pen.

"Yep. So here's the story; aliens from Mars are kidnapping young women to turn them into super-sexy assassins for the purpose of taking over Canada. And maybe Jamaica, the details aren't clear yet."

To his credit, Damian kept a straight face through the entire story. Winn, however, smiled and tucked the notepad away.

"Thanks for nothing."

Winn took the milk-shake and left, but was met by Siobhan at the door.

"What took you so long? I gave you one job, genius!" She ranted. The doors closed and the rest of the barrage was cut off.

Damian looked pleased with himself until he saw the look on Kara's face.

"What?"

"Stop toying with him. That wasn't funny." Kara pointed a French fry at him accusingly. Damian squirmed in his seat and tried to look innocent.

"What? It's possible, isn't it?"


	7. Overwatch

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in the Supergirl universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.  
** **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

* * *

Thirteen years ago, Kara-zor-el's ship wasn't the only thing that fell from the sky. The pod containing the young girl had been launched from Krypton almost too late; Kal-el's pod was already long gone, his parents having said their goodbyes.

But Kara's... They found it more difficult to say goodbye to a child who could talk back. Who could ask questions. Who would know exactly what was happening to her, and them, and the only world she'd ever known. It's much harder saying goodbye when the other person has to say it too.

And so Kara-zor-el's pod was launched late, later than it should have been, in any case. It still escaped the planet's destruction; the young girl made it to her destination. But not without a detour that would affect the lives of millions of people, both human and otherwise.

Fort Rozz was a prison station built by Kryptonians to house the worst of the galaxy's criminals. Murderers. Thieves. Tyrants. Men and women whose crimes couldn't be described in simple terms. They were evil, for the most part. Dangerous to the last man. And they were safe from the destruction of Krypton.

But when Kara's pod passed by, dangerously close by at that, something else happened. The prison's automated guidance system took over. The officers and inmates aboard watched helplessly as their world burned, and their new home drifted far, far away to an entirely new planet.

A short journey later, it all came together. Kara crashed into the desert, and was rescued by the man who'd just finished putting on his cape and boots. Fort Rozz crashed nearby, spilling out its cargo of outlaws into the helpless surrounding cities. Or, almost helpless.

Superman, the myth, the legend, the hero of the world, was one man. Only one. And his powers, spectacular as they were, were no match for all the inmates contained in Fort Rozz. Going toe-to-toe with just one of its denizens almost cost him his life. Had there been more, he would have been nothing more than a fond memory.

When the world's most powerful man asks for help, things change drastically. Superman realized he couldn't protect the world on his own. He needed help; a lot of it.

Batman.

Green Lantern.

Wonder Woman.

Aquaman.

Hawk Man and Woman.

These few and many more to come answered the call. Some had powers of speed or strength, some of intellect or skill. All had histories that seemed more complicated than the others. All were brought together for one purpose. To defend Earth.

Kara was just twelve years old when Kal left. She couldn't have known of the battle raging sometimes dangerously close to home. Kryptonians were the ones who imprisoned all those at Fort Rozz; when word spread of a few survivors, here, on the lonely rock they'd landed on... Kal had a challenge ahead of him.

Months passed where Kal's only thoughts were of the survival of his new League. People died. Cities burned. The entire world shook as hundreds of individuals each capable of mass destruction were unleashed all at once. When he slept, every few days or so, Kal was reminded of the girl in the dark building. His family, left under the protection of a man he barely liked. But Bruce had resources. Secrets. Friends. Kal had none of these things, and worse, a bright red target painted on his chest.

Eventually, after long battles and longer nights of worrying and watching, the world began to settle. Fort Rozz inmates were neutralized. Some killed in battle, others executed by civilian governments for their crimes, and others imprisoned by a coalition of the world's governments. Antarctica, the frozen continent of the south, soon sprouted its own Fort. Those who were able to be captured were sent there, to be studied, evaluated, and hopefully, someday, rehabilitated.

The first League, once so small and desperate to survive, grew in strength and numbers.

Green Arrow.

The Flash

Captain Atom.

Black Canary.

Red Tornado.

Doctor Fate.

And very recently, the Martian Manhunter.

These and countless others rallied around the idea of protecting their home from outside threats. All other ties and duties to king and country were put aside; Earth, the entire world as a whole, had to be put first for each and every member of the League.

Fort Rozz was reclaimed, rebuilt, and put into orbit. Renamed 'The Watchtower', it served as a base of operations to all who were inducted into the League. Scientists and engineers from across the planet came together to build and maintain the massive, dual-ringed structure. Whenever, and wherever, a threat arose, the League was there to put a stop to it.

* * *

High in the outer ring of The Watchtower, two founding members of the League sat alone at a table.

The lights were bright white and embedded into the ceiling. There were no shadows in the smooth, rounded-edges cell-turned meeting room. The long table in the center had been stamped 'JL', for Justice League. Many chairs sat around like silent witnesses to the two men between them.

Batman sat rigidly in his chair, hands folded neatly and mask firmly in place. No one revealed or discussed their other lives in the Watchtower; it was too dangerous. Even here.

Superman sat across from him, leaning forward with his arms resting on the wooden surface of the table. He looked tired from some unknown stress, and as usual, angry.

"She still won't answer my calls." Superman said dryly, running a hand down his face.

Batman narrowed his eyes before speaking. "Have you tried giving her space?"

"I gave her thirteen years!" Superman's voice rose, and Batman was once again glad that the room was soundproof. No one could know how close to the edge their 'chosen one' of a leader was.

"I said 'space', not time." Batman answered coolly.

Superman jumped up out of his chair and started pacing, a bad sign in Batman's book.

"I left her with you so you could protect her; so _we_ could protect her. How can we do that if she won't even talk to us?" He shouted, glaring dangerously at his old ally.

Batman never lost his temper or even changed his tone of voice.

"She talks to me just fine. Her brother Damian especially."

That was the wrong choice of words, by the look on the Kryptonian's face.

"He's not her brother! And you're not her father, either!" Superman slammed his fists down on the table, which cracked and splintered along the edge. Batman sighed and blinked in frustration.

"Calm down, Superman." Batman forced himself to use the name, when in reality he'd have preferred to beat Clark Kent to his senses. Respecting leadership is tough when said leadership really needs a handler or a therapist.

The other man finally returned to his seat and put his head in his hands.

"How close is your man to her? How close of an eye is he keeping on her?"

Batman was ready for the question, as it had been asked every day for the past year.

"The only way he can be closer to her is to move in. Something tells me there's not enough room in her apartment for two."

Superman's glare told him that sarcasm wasn't the right approach.

"She was hurt."

It wasn't a question or a statement, more like a veiled accusation. Batman narrowed his eyes further.

"She was stabbed with an eighteen inch Kryptonite alloy short-sword. The blade was in her lower abdomen for approximately twenty three seconds before it was radically dislocated. We estimate the weapon damaged her lower intestinal tract and possibly the nerve endings in her spine. She stopped bleeding after eight seconds and was almost completely recovered in under and hour. She is currently resting and recovering." Batman read off carefully. There was no note or chart in his hand; he considered Kara his daughter. He knew every time she was cut or bruised, let alone impaled.

"Who are these people? I thought Kara was handling human criminals!"

"If I knew the answer to that question, you wouldn't have had to ask it." Batman snapped. A second later, he was phrased it more kindly. "We're working on it. All of us. Kara included."

Superman sighed and the tension in the room seemed to die down. He rested his elbows on the table and his head in his hands, eyes closed as he thought.

"I don't understand."

Batman almost laughed. Almost. "She's a woman. What makes you think you're going to understand her?"

Superman acted as if he hadn't heard him.

"I thought growing up in your house, seeing you and the rest of your family... She should have been as anxious to join us as Damian is; not desperately avoiding the League like this."

"You're right. She did grow up in a house full of masks. And now she wants to try something different." Batman explained simply. "We helped her learn and grow. We taught her right from wrong. We gave her discipline and wisdom. Now she wants to explore the world herself. Without a mask, without a suit, without the fate of the world resting on her shoulders. Admit it." Batman gave a wry smile. "You're jealous."

Superman returned the smile, and for a moment, the anger seemed to vanish. He could almost understand the idea of it. But then it was back again, in full force.

"I want her here. With us. That's the only way she'll be safe."

"We can disagree about that all you want. Her opinion is the one that matters. And if you want her here, feel free to drag her in, kicking and screaming. If you managed it, you'd spend the rest of your life trying to keep her here, and watching as she grew to hate you. Go ahead. Prove me wrong."

Batman's voice took on a dangerous tone. Superman was her family. But so was he. And no one, not even the great and powerful Superman, was going to hurt his daughter. There were a few Kryptonite swords in Batman's basement, too.

"If she gets hurt..."

"She'll heal."

"If she dies..."

"We're all going to die, Clark." Batman dropped the formality, just for a moment as he drove the point home. "The question is, what is worth dying for?"

Superman stood, and walked to the small window behind him. They could see Earth, far below, completely oblivious to their presence. Even with his super-senses, he couldn't quite make out the buildings or streets of National City. But he knew it was down there, and hiding somewhere inside, was the only family he had left.

"I hate this. Waiting. Hoping. Wondering. The 'what if's are driving me crazy." Superman admitted, leaning against the thick panes of glass.

"Congratulations." Batman said sincerely. "Now you know what it's like to be human."

* * *

Damian was gone; he'd been called back to wherever he needed to be by people he didn't want to name. Kara hated the secrecy, but her brother was right. She really didn't want to know, because once that door was open, she'd never get it closed.

She returned to her apartment with the plans to order a few pizzas for dinner and the remnants of a case still in her head. She climbed the stairs routinely, opened her unlocked door, and walked in without thinking.

She set her purse on the counter, tied her hair up in a ponytail to keep it out of her way, and was heading for her cabinet full of weapons to clean or sharpen one of them. She was so tired and worn out over the case and her life in general that she didn't even notice the other occupant in the room until she turned around.

"Hello."


	8. Zoom Out

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in the Supergirl universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.  
** **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** **This is the start of the end of the mystery you've all patiently read. I've left clues galore with the intent that some of you may figure out where this is going. I would like to say that no detail is irrelevant, and no words are idle. Everything spoken, noticed, or perceived is crucial to the end game. I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter.**

* * *

Kara's first instinct was to lash out. Surprise and anger went in hand for the Kryptonian; it had for years now.

She grabbed her table and threw it up into the air, kicking it as it flew to add to the impact. The intruder easily ducked under it and rolled over the couch, slamming into her midsection. He stepped on her foot, brought his closed fists up into her chin, and spun around for a devastating kick to her gut.

Kara took all of these blows without breaking a sweat. When she opened her eyes again, bright red light spilled out from her glare. She was almost ready to fire, almost ready to obliterate the fool who'd attacked her, when she finally got a good look at him.

"Dad...?"

Bruce Wayne crouched on the floor where he'd landed, staring up at her intensely. He looked curious to see if she'd do it, to see if she'd really kill him without a second thought as to who he was. That old, familiar, darkened stare sent a shiver down Kara's spine.

Her power faded, her eyes returned to normal, and she shrank back against the wall in horror. She felt like she'd taken another sword to her stomach; her anger seemed to run away as if scared of the man in black.

Slowly, Bruce stood up, smoothing over the wrinkles in his suit. He straightened his tie, dusted off his pants, and finally glared back up at his daughter.

"Hello, Kara. Nice to see you too."

"Dad, what are you doing? Why were you...?"

"Taking you up on your offer to 'drop in anytime'?" Bruce asked mildly. With a nervous gulp, Kara realized she _had_ told him to do just that.

Bruce didn't look angry or even disappointed; he just picked up the small wooden table and set it back where it was supposed to be. He acted as if nothing were wrong; as if this was totally normal. That was the part that scared her. Kara would rather he screamed or yelled like a normal parent. The silence was far worse in her mind.

"So. You don't answer your phone. You don't lock your doors. And you don't hesitate to attack anyone who gets in your way. Tell me Kara, where did Alfred and I go wrong? Which lesson did I teach incorrectly?" Bruce's voice was more curious than anything else. There was no scolding or reprisal in his eyes. It made Kara's gut churn all the more.

"Dad, I'm sorry..."

"I don't like the word 'sorry'. Never have." Bruce explained again. "I prefer, 'I understand'. Or better yet, 'It won't happen again.'" He righted a chair and sat down in it, folding his hands and looking up at Kara expectantly.

"If you're going to leave your house unsecured when you go out, be prepared to have visitors when you come back."

"I know, I'm... It won't happen again." Kara stuttered.

"If you're not going to talk to your family, be prepared for they show up face to face."

"I understand."

"And lastly, if you're going to use your powers with no thought of hesitation or caution, I suggest you at least show restraint. Had I been anyone else, I would be a stain on that rug right now."

"Dad, I am so sorry..." Kara bit her lip as she tried to endure her father's stare. He still wasn't angry. Just instructing. He was teaching her what to do in the future, as usual. He had never raised his voice to her, he had never laid a hand on her, he had never even punished her for doing something wrong.

Bruce's style of parenting was instruction. Anyone who knew him knew how terrifying and exhausting it was to have Bruce lecture them; Kara would have preferred to be yelled at or grounded. That she could deal with. But the lectures on how to be better in the future, she just had to sit through.

"Sit down, Kara. We need to talk."

Kara let out a huge sigh of relief as Bruce ended it short. Past sessions sometimes ran into the hours instead of minutes. Kara gratefully sat across from him and let out a breath she'd been holding in.

"Now. How are you?" Bruce asked, turning his chair to face her more directly. A faint trace of a smile appeared. Instruction was over. Now he was just talking to his daughter.

"I'm fine, Dad. Really. I know Damian probably told you about the sword thing..." Kara started talking quickly, spilling out everything she'd worried and stressed over for the past day. And then week. And then month.

Bruce listened to it all, never speaking up once. He wasn't tuning her out and he wasn't thinking about anything else in the world. He was just absorbing. She needed to vent her troubles to the one person she could; her father. Bruce was no five-star parent, but he had his good points.

Finally Kara started to slow down, aware of how much she'd been speaking. Her emotions had calmed from the state of high-alert, and the layers of worry were at last melting away. She stared right back at him the whole time, taking in the loving stare of the man across from her. Once again she was reminded that Kal-el wasn't the only family she had left.

"I see." Bruce took a deep breath before speaking again, arranging his thoughts into an efficient pattern.

"I wish I had an easy answer to your problems. But the truth is, I don't. Let's start with Clark, though. Or Kal, as you insist on calling him. You realize he doesn't use that name anymore, right?" Bruce asked, still more inquisitive than annoyed.

Kara blushed as the guilt hit her. Ignoring and aggravating her cousin was alright when she was alone, but when her father was right there to call her on it, it suddenly seemed pretty childish.

"I... know. It's just, he was Kal to me for almost as long as he's been Clark. It reminds me of home, to call him that."

Bruce nodded wisely, his sharp features still unreadable.

"Hmm. I agree. He needs to get used to it. I suppose you got lucky; Kara didn't need to be amended to sound human-like."

Kara smiled as he spoke, glad he'd taken her side on the matter. He did that fairly often; if you had a good reason for doing something, Bruce was always ready to hear it. Logic won out over drama or complications.

"But you still haven't been talking to him."

Kara was more prepared for that argument.

"He didn't talk to me for years. Fair's fair." Kara said indignantly, jutting out her chin and trying to look resolute.

"That doesn't work with family, Kara. It never has." Bruce corrected. He blinked slowly, and for a moment, a look of pain came over him. It was gone almost before Kara noticed it.

"My parents are gone. They weren't perfect either. And yet, I still wouldn't hesitate if I got the chance to see them again. Damian's mother is still here, but no more a mother to him than you or I are. And yet, he still thinks about her every day. Kal is here, alive and well, and he wants to talk to you. Don't waste that."

The realization that her father was right hit Kara hard. Who was she to complain about family? At least she hadn't had to watch her parents bleed out in front of her. At least her relatives weren't... whatever Damian's was. She could have had it a lot worse, and here she was trying to make it that way. The feeling of guilt wouldn't leave her alone as her father went on.

"You need to learn to control your emotions, Kara. I'm not going to lock you in the manor's basement for the rest of your life, but I'm also not going to lose sleep worrying whether or not you lost your temper and leveled a city. With your incredible power, you need discipline to match. Do you understand?"

Kara could only nod in response.

"I know you already have a great deal of control; I'm not denying that. But when a you're as powerful as you are, there is no margin for error. It's not an easy task, but life never is. We're here to help, Kara, but you have to ask when you need it."

Again, Kara could only nod.

Bruce stood up, pushed in his chair, and walked around the table to stand over her. He put a hand on her shoulder gently, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. It was rare for the Dark Knight to show love or emotion. But for his daughter, he was willing to sacrifice.

"I love you, Kara. Now lock your doors, call your cousin, and don't annihilate anyone."

Kara smiled and tried not to laugh. "In that order?"

"In that order."

Bruce Wayne was gone as silently as he came, and Kara was left alone in her apartment with only her thoughts.

He was right, of course. It was rare he was wrong. Officially, as far as she was concerned, he was never wrong at all. It was only after she'd grown up and watched carefully for years that she realized that wasn't always true. Superman may have been invincible, but it was Batman that was the ultimate earthly authority for Kara.

She leaned back in her chair and let her random streams of thought wash over her. Now that she could think properly, it all seemed to fall into place. There pieces to every puzzle, and she had all one hundred of them.

Eyes closed and chin resting in her hands, Kara put her mind to work.

"Twenty months ago, a private organization started kidnapping young, healthy women." She repeated out loud.

"No witnesses, no mistakes, no margin for error. They're almost perfect. They're practiced, experienced, and well funded. A para-military... no, private security company. Firearms training, weapon skills, tactical gear... They're former military. Recruited to a private company for the purpose of acquiring a specific group of people." Kara thought out loud, as if her mind were a writer's study and her mouth was the printing press. A dozen and one possibilities worked themselves out, but as she spoke, the correct solution presented itself.

"They only use one van and four men. They don't need many women all at once, they need a continual supply. No bodies have turned up, no suspicious activity reported, no sightings of the vans after they do their work. The victims are being preserved for some purpose in a private facility inside National City."

"If they just needed live humans, they wouldn't be so specific. They pick and choose before swooping in. These women are valuable, at least to whoever is doing this. They're on a tight schedule with no room for delay or error. They're willing to kill their own to remain secret. They have funding, but it's not all going to their teams or there would be more of them. More complicated operations, more elaborate traps. They're trying to minimize the effort needed to acquire a target."

"I'm looking for a private company doing scientific research on live human test subjects, working on a two year schedule. They're inside National City with a large, underground facility to conduct their work. They work with former military and have access to Kryptonite."

And all at once, Kara had the answer.

"Cadmus."


	9. We Fall Down

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in the Supergirl universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.  
** **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

* * *

Kara's wardrobe was extensive. She had a Wayne bank account and an older sister; naturally she had more than enough clothes for her taste. But there was only one item in that massive collection that she was looking for now.

Hidden in the back, dusty from disuse and almost forgotten was a present from her siblings. They had all had a hand in designing and building it, making each detail just right.

Black leather covered black denim, with a special kind of fabric known only to the Waynes in between. Hard plastic clasps and snaps lined the sides, with pockets hidden in the lines and folds of it. It was designed to fit her personally; Barbara had stolen some her clothes for a pattern. It was tough, rugged, and durable enough to withstand a bomb going off.

Sharp, clean lines ran from the ankles of the pants to the shoulders and neck of the shirt. There wasn't any bright red or blue, just the black undertones that had served Batman so well in the past. There were special boots with steel inserts and gloves with armor lining the fingers.

And last, but not least, a mask. It was different than any other; it ran from the forehead down, over the ears and around the back of her head and neck. It left the mouth and nose free, but covered her eyes. Her hair was left to fall free, but Barbara had suggested she braid it once she was in the suit.

On the chest was a now age-old symbol. The house of El, the unmistakable 'S'. But now, colored silver, with a yellow lining around the edges. No one could mistake that this was the armor of a Kryptonian, but there was also no doubt it had come from the Bat-family. It was Kara, condensed into fabric and armor.

She took it out for the first time in a long time, eying it carefully in the light. She hated masks. She'd spent so long trying to avoid them. But she couldn't get away with Kal's glasses and hairstyle; not for long, anyway. And she wouldn't want to be recognized tonight.

Thoughts of calling Barry were immediately silenced. This wasn't a job for Barry Allen, the detective. Chances were, she'd find something a little more disturbing than he was ready to handle. She couldn't call anyone else in her family either; this had to her, and her alone.

She'd worked the case, she knew the victims, and she knew without a doubt where this was taking her. Cadmus.

It was a very unique 'company', for lack of a better word. Kal feared it. Bruce hated it. Everyone else didn't know enough about to decide one way or another. It took a lot of digging to uncover even a shred of what lay beneath.

Cadmus was ancient; pre-World War I. It spanned generations, working in the shadows to create terrifying new creations to cause death and destruction. But since Kara and Fort Rozz had landed, they'd worked their operation in a frenzy. Aliens went missing, but so far, nothing could be traced to them directly.

Until now.

Kara stood in front of the old mirror, looking herself over one last time. There was no spandex to be found; no cape, no high-heeled boots or bright colors to betray her to the enemy. She was darker, cleaner, and deadlier than her cousin could ever be. Cadmus was going to burn, if her suspicions were correct. And she'd inherited her father's track record for being right.

She turned off all her lights, locked her door, and softly floated off the stairs and into the sky. No one would see her now; the sun was setting and the city was calming before the night life awoke. It was just her up there; no team, no friends, no worries in sight.

Kara smiled grimly as she flew higher and higher, reaching for the clouds as she silently rose. Sky-scrapers tried to keep pace but soon fell short. Birds passed, screeching encouragements to the figure shooting past. With a graceful move, her arms fell and her leg rose. She was above National City, looking down on all of the streets and towers.

 _"I traced the van as far as the south end of the city, but lost it in traffic under the highway overpass."_

Kara found the spot and narrowed her eyes. That street led to a run down area of town, but in the center was a newer warehouse. She had no doubt that if she traced the dummy companies and offshore accounts, she'd find the name Cadmus in the building's records somewhere along the line.

Wind ripped past her as she flew, straight as an arrow towards the lone building. Cars seemed to be stopped in comparison; she felt her muscles stretch and her control start to ebb. Speed was what she needed; not control.

Asphalt shattered and windows rattled as she landed hard in the parking lot. Car alarms went off like guard dogs, while the dim streets lights fairly shook with the impact.

Slowly, Kara-zor-el rose.

Her hair was braided back against her now armored skull. Her eyes glared out with an inferno glow. She was ready to end this, once and for all.

There were no soldiers racing out into battle or security guards with weapons drawn. Kara waited, wondering who would answer her challenge. Surely someone inside would have heard the artillery-strike of a landing.

Ever so slowly, a door opened. Kara braced herself, ready for a fight.

The door opened wider, still in the shadows. Kara forced herself to concentrate, and X-rayed the scene. All she could see was black; the walls and even the door were lined with lead. There was no longer any doubt of what lied waiting inside.

A woman appeared, standing in the doorway like a lost child. She was pretty; even beautiful. Her long, red hair was tied into a loose pony-tail behind her, and she was dressed in a white hospital gown. Her face was pale white, with red blotches like blisters all over her exposed flesh. A blank look rested on her face, devoid of any anger or fear.

Kara's resolve was shaken. This _was_ one of the victims she was looking for. But she wasn't Cadmus, and she wasn't a threat.

Kara walked forward, hand held out, a faint smile breaking through her tension and adrenaline.

"Hello, my name is Kara. I'm here to help you."

The woman looked confused, as if this wasn't what she was expecting. She coughed, a retching, aching gasp, and then looked hesitantly up at Kara again.

"I... I'm here to help you, too."

Kara had only a second of warning before the attack came. The woman's form changed, turning first chalk-white and then dark green. A feral yell ripped out of her throat, and red eyes shone out to match Kara's.

The woman in black fell backwards as the monster attacked, slamming her fists into the Kryptonian. Kara was shaken by the blows; more than she had ever been. For the first time, she felt pain from something other than Kryptonite.

A right-handed punch caught her in the jaw, and Kara could feel the bone start to shatter. Shock kept her from attacking back, but not for long.

The woman in white kicked out, catching Kara in the stomach and sending her flying backwards. She landed on her hands and knees, eyes burning with their own light.

The entire parking lot lit up as the red and white beam of energy shot out, catching her attacker full on. Kara grimaced in pain and fury as she went, standing upright and pouring everything she had into the attack.

When she stopped, she was out of breath from the exertion. For a split second, she worried that she'd killed the other woman. That thought quickly faded.

The gown had disintegrated into ash, with blackened shreds remaining here and there. The woman slowly rose from the burned pavement, still quiet alive and ready to fight.

"What... what are you?" Kara gasped, staring in wonder.

The woman screamed her answer, her voice taking on a deep and throaty tone. "Enough!"

A wave of pain flooded over Kara, starting from her temples and working its way down. Agony filled her consciousness; she couldn't think, let alone defend herself. She screamed, but she couldn't hear herself. She fell, but didn't feel the impact. She was carried away, but she knew no more. Kara was out, rendered completely unconscious.

* * *

Damian was angry. Furious was the word, actually. He'd been gone for what, four hours? Less, actually. And Barry had lost her. _He had one job; one simple job!_ Damian thought to himself.

Watch Kara. That's all he or his father had ever asked. And now, Barry was panicking. Her apartment had been locked up, but she was no where to be found. The restaurant was closed, the station hadn't seen her, and she wasn't in the sky according to Radar. The last he'd seen her was when she'd been heading downtown, towards the south end.

Damian was already en route; Robin suit in place and motorcycle revved up. It was street bike, black and red in color and had a jet engine under the seat. If it had been given wings, it could have easily flown. Damian wished he'd had the foresight to add them; flying would be faster.

He raced down packed intersections, weaving in and out of traffic like a maniac. Kara was in danger; forget safe driving. Row after row of slow moving cars passed as Damian raced against the clock, heading for his sister.

"One job! One job!" Damian shouted, over and over again to his helmet. He'd given the man one job, and he'd failed. And where was he now? 'Getting help.'

 _Screw help. I'm coming, Kara._

* * *

Damian's bike hadn't even been fully stopped before he vaulted off the seat. Landing on his heels and throwing his helmet aside, the young hero raced to the side of the concrete wall. A grappling hook practically flew out of his hands, and his boots left the ground.

There were security cameras, which he either avoided or disable with birdarangs. His black and yellow armor was lined with Dick's old gadgets; he had no doubt he'd use them all tonight.

A sky-light presented itself a few yards ahead, and Damian leapt on top of it. A cutting laser came off his belt and into his gloved hand before being applied to the thick glass. A small circle soon appeared, and Damian dropped into the darkened building, riding the glass plate the whole way.

A second before impact, he shot out another grappling hook and swung away, landing on the warehouse's floor. He whirled around, taking in his surroundings before moving another step. He was in a dark room, but that's all he could tell.

A flashlight clicked on, and he spotted movement along one wall. Six beefy security guards, guns drawn blinked in the glare of his light.

"Get the punk!"


	10. We Rise Again

**DISCLAIMER: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned any of the characters or settings in the Supergirl universe. I own only the characters I myself have created.  
** **EDITOR'S NOTE: The characters I have created do not reflect my own personal opinions or beliefs; they are merely constructs useful in the telling of this story. I have not created any character for the purpose of inserting myself or any other individual into the story. They are merely characters.**

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the last chapter of part 1 of the fiction; I've had a lot of fun writing it and I hope you all have enjoyed it. I have plans for another part, another chapter in Kara's story, that include a lot of familiar characters from both TV and comics. I know this has been a darker and grittier version of our favorite character, but I think it's a story that needs to be told. In reality, there is darkness and fear, as well as hope and courage. I have tried to portray that in my version, and I hope that came through.**

 **Thank you all for reading. - Jardix**

* * *

"Wake up."

Kara stirred in her sleep, her mind foggy with pain.

"I said, wake up!"

A savage kick to the ribs brought her back to harsh reality, and she opened her eyes.

Bright lights blinded her, seeming to encircle her completely. The man who'd spoken was no where to be found.

"Oh good. I didn't feel like getting the Tazer..."

One of the harsh lights was removed, or at least lowered, and Kara's sight returned. An ugly, weathered face appeared right next to hers, almost touching nose to nose. Thick glasses sat on his nose, with stubble growing along his jaw and neck. His head was bald and oddly scarred, as if he'd had too many head wounds.

"Hello my darling. My name is Doctor Dabney Donovan."

His voice was high and scratchy, and added to the fear starting to creep into her. Her arms were chained high above her, and her legs would respond to her desperate order to move.

Dabney took a step back and looked Kara over like a butcher examining a cow. He adjusted his glasses on his nose a few times, sniffing a lot while he was at it.

"Hmm. Interesting; very interesting! Another female, how splendid!" He leaned close again and whispered in her ear.

"Be nice and I'll go easy on you! You're much prettier than the other ones!"

Kara struggled against the chains and tried to hit him, but all she managed to do was amuse the man.

"Oh, don't do that! Kryptonite emitters are flooding this room with the same stuff that those little green rocks exude. You're less than powerless in here, my darling." Dabney grinned savagely, staring purposely at her feminine figure.

"Dabney! Get out here!"

A new voice shouted harshly from another room, and the doctor fairly jumped out of his skin.

"Coming, coming!" As he passed, he again whispered to Kara. He was so close, his whiskers bristled against the skin of her ear.

"I'll be back, darling!"

Kara heard a door slam, and a sob choked it's way free. A single tear streaked out of her eye, more out of fear than sadness or weakness. She tried to steel herself over and looked up at the chains in the ceiling.

Metal plates were bolted into place, and her chains were welded to them. They were long, but massive. A ship could have been anchored with these things and no one would have worried.

Her ankles were in a similar position; chained to the metal floor with huge metal links. The Kryptonite was making her weak and tired, trying to lull her back into unconsciousness. She fought it for all she was worth, trying to work her way free.

There was a lock-picking kit in the end of her sleeve, but the actual lock was higher than she could reach. There was a radio in her ear, but she couldn't activate it without her hands and she wasn't sure the signal would escape this place anyway.

She tried to force her way out of the chains, but she wasn't strong enough. She tried to melt them with her heat vision, but she could barely muster a glare, let alone beams of light. She tried to X-ray the room to see if there were any weak points. All she could see was darkness. Lead lined, just like the outside.

There was nothing she could do. She grasped this idea with another sob; there was no way out. She wasn't weak, she wasn't emotional, she didn't give up easily; but a chipmunk could have beaten her senseless at this point, and that man looked a lot more dangerous. He had a look in his eye of pure evil; he didn't just want to hurt her, he wanted to...

She tried not to think about it. People knew where she was, right? And then she remembered how careful she'd been. She'd left no note, made no calls, and actually told her father she'd be talking to Kal right now. No one was coming.

The door slammed again, and Kara shook her chains again. The tear ran off of her cheek, and she was prepared to fight again. As soon as the man made a mistake, she'd be on him. She'd rip him limb from limb, as soon as she got the chance.

"I'm back!"

Dabney's grating voice sent a shiver down her spine, and put a beefy hand on her waist. Slowly, she was spun until she saw a window and door that had been directly behind her.

There was another man in the doorway. He was wearing a nice suit, with gelled back hair and a mean look on his face. He looked like a business executive, not a torturer.

"Alright now, my darling, first things first. We like to explain the process to our new acquisitions, to prepare them for what comes next." Dabney said with a smile.

"Step one, we get you out of that nice uniform..." Dabney started to play with one of the snaps on her shoulder, and the other man cleared his throat.

"Mr. Luthor wants her intact and unharmed. Completely, unharmed."

Dabney sighed and let his hand fall.

"Fine, fine. Next, we take our girls to sterilization. Clean all of those germs and such off; can't have any contaminates you know. We need your genetics pure to make our masterpieces!"

Kara's vision was directed out the window to the massive room beyond. Line upon line of glass tubes sealed against concrete pillars reached up towards the ceiling, with wires and conduits descending down into their tops.

Inside the tubes, behind the frosted glass, were all twenty kidnapped women.

"What are you doing to them?" Kara demanded, her nerve returning.

Dabney chuckled darkly.

"I call them DNAliens. Part human, part alien, all power! We've been able to incorporate a surprising number of our subjects attributes into their genetic code; apparently humans and Martians are more alike than we thought. Oh, how splendid it was to get that gorgeous green wonder out of the red sands! I knew investing in that private space program would pay off! Didn't I tell you that?"

He turned to the man in the suit, whose only response was to check his watch.

"Oh fine, fine! I'm almost done!" He looked back at Kara with the same malicious grin. "So, here's the part _you'll_ be interested in. Mental preparedness and all that. Mr. Luthor wants a few DNAliens of his own, and he wants them styled after a certain Man of Steel. That's where your DNA comes in. I'm sure we won't need much; a few limbs, maybe some organs; now that I've perfected the process, it shouldn't be too painful. Nurse, bone-saw!" He suddenly screamed. Kara shuddered involuntarily, and he laughed painfully close to her ear. "I kid, I kid! No really, this is going to hurt. Time to make some more masterpieces!"

"Oh my gosh. I was right!"

All three of them turned to look out the window, right as a birdarang caught the man in the suit dead in the collarbone. He fell back, bleeding and gasping as he tried to remove it.

"Aliens from Mars are kidnapping young women to turn them into super-sexy assassins. Who'd have thought?"

Damian Wayne walked into the room and put a foot on the man's ribcage. A dangerous look in his eye and blood spattered on his chest told Dabney all he needed to know about the man.

"Let her go, before I have to hurt you. Badly." Damian snarled.

The man under his boot found his voice again and started hurling threats.

"Do you have any idea who I represent? Do you have any idea what will happen to you?" He screamed, desperately trying to get free. Damian effortlessly kept him down.

"Do you really think I care?" He asked, directing it at Dabney. "Do you really think I'm just going to walk away? That is my sister. My _sister_. Did you really think I wouldn't fight?"

Two more security guards ran towards him, guns drawn. Damian jerked his staff free of his belt and jammed it into the forehead of the first man. He fell, right as Damian whirled around to deliver three lightning fast blows to his head and torso.

He fell beside his partner, and Damian turned back to Kara and Dabney.

"Did you really think I wouldn't come?"

"Actually, I was quite prepared for this!" Dabney grinned. A small remote was whipped out of his pocket, and he frantically pressed a button on the front.

Twenty hisses escaped into the air. Twenty panes of glass slowly rose. And twenty women each took a synchronized step onto the wet concrete below. As one, they looked to Damian with glowing red eyes.

"All programmed to utterly destroy intruders. Have fun dealing with this!" Dabney smiled, right up to the point where the blunted birdarang struck his forehead. He sank to the floor like a sack of rocks, just as the other man passed out from loss of blood.

"Damian, cut me loose!" Kara screamed her lungs out as the first one of the hybrids put a hand on Damian's shoulder.

Before he could react, he was jerked backwards and dragged down by a dozen hands. A strangled yell reached Kara's ears as he fought his way free.

Damian drove an elbow into her gut, and slammed his fist backwards to hit the woman's face. He kicked a knee aside, a head backwards, and threw the last attacker over his head. They all landed in a heap, before the next group hit him like a truck.

Damian was thrown to the ground as the mass of green arms and legs pummeled him, pounding him into the concrete. He looked up at Kara as blood started to spill.

"I'm... sorry..."

Kara's throat burned as she screamed, over and over again. Her arms strained, the veins threatening to pop out. Her eyes were wide as she watched the horror unfold.

Damian was pushed down, again and again. His head was smashed against the floor, his blood now running across it. The silent mob of women mercilessly drove on, crushing him under their weight.

Time seemed to stand still. Kara could see him; she could see her brother dying. Her parents were gone; ripped away from her. Kal had abandoned her. And now, her brother was being murdered in front of her. She screamed and screamed, so loud and so deafening that when the broken chains hit the floor, no one could hear them.

One of the mindless hybrids happened to glance up, right as the fist caught her in the face. She flew backwards and didn't reappear. A leg stomped down, and another life was extinguished. Kara flew through the pile like a weed-whacker, slicing and pounding her way to her brother's still form.

Bone broke and flesh was ripped as she went, tearing people loose left and right. Carnage wasn't the right word for it; Kara slaughtered them. All of them. Some tried to resist; she unleashed all the more fury on them. There were no fancy moves or kicks; she just swept the mass of monsters away.

Crying, she sank to the ground beside Damian. Blood covered both of them. She rolled him over gently, tears streaming down her face. He wasn't breathing. He wasn't breathing.

It took her a moment to realize she was screaming it.

"He's not breathing!"

"He's not breathing!"

"God please, please! He's not breathing!"

She bent over him, hugging him tightly as she wept. She didn't even notice the other men and women around her. A gloved hand reached her shoulder and tried to pull her back. Kara jerked free, still screaming her lungs out.

The second man to try was stronger. He ripped her free, holding her tightly against his chest as the others moved in.

"I can get him to the jet!"

"Do it! And tell the Watchtower that we've got an emergency incoming!"

A flash of yellow lightning grabbed Damian, and they were both gone.

Kara watched them go, eyes seeing but not comprehending.

"Kara, Kara! Listen to me!"

She didn't. The black, sleek jet hovering above the building sucked up the yellow lightning, and it returned again a moment later. With a roar of wind, the jet flew higher until it was out of sight. She saw it through the sky-light, tears still streaming down her face.

"Kara! Are you alright?"

The Kryptonian collapsed, and she and her cousin slowly slid to the floor. She stopped screaming, and the tears started to abate. Kal gently held her close to him, head bowed as they all watched.

The Flash, the man in the red who'd sped Damian away, slowly knelt down in front of them. Barry took the red hood off, and their eyes met again.

"Barry?"

Kara's mind seemed burned out, but she recognized him nevertheless. Barry smiled a little as she spoke, gloved hands resting on his knees.

Suddenly, the final mystery clicked into place.

 _If he had powers, she'd know about it._

 _Yeah, well, some of us have other goals._

 _She's alive, I think, just stunned!_

 _I'll put on some red spandex or something and run around the streets all night._

 _I wish I could do that._

 _Speaking of work, what do you think about that guy you were working with last night?_

Barry had been there to watch her. The Flash had sent by the League to keep an eye on their rogue member. He knew everything about her. He had been to her house. He had been her friend since day one. He was The Flash; the spy that kept her father and the rest of them up to date. That's how Damian knew to be in town. Barry had called him. That's why when she'd been hurt, Barry had been talking to someone else. Ordering Damian to go after the van while he stayed to watch her.

Betrayal hurt almost as much as watching Damian go down. She looked him in the eye, anger and hatred slowly rising to the surface.

"You... lied to me..." Kara was barely able to form the words, staring in accusation at the man in front of her.

"On my orders, Kara. He did because I told him to." Kal quickly explained. Kara jerked free of his grasp and stood up, staring at each one of them in turn.

Her father hadn't trusted her. Her partner had lied to her. Her cousin had ordered it done. And now, her brother was dying because she couldn't help him.

Blood soaked the floor as the League stood and watched Kara snap. Bodies piled high were a silent testament to her wrath. Everything she had tried to avoid was here. Everything she'd wanted was gone. Everyone she knew had lied.

Thunder sounded as the Kryptonian flew, faster than any one of them.

But the League's attention was drawn instead to their newest member. J'onn J'onzz ran from a back room, carrying a limp form in his arms.

"M'gann! M'gann!" The Martian yelled over and over again as he tried to revive the girl. Superman and Batman both ran over as the rest watched in shock.

The girl was small, frail looking after so many months of torment. A tight plastic garment barely covered her, with needles and tubes still sticking out of them.

Anxious red eyes stared down at the dark green skin covering the girl's face. Her head was bald, just like his, and she seemed to be a smaller version of the larger man.

"We need to get her to the Watchtower too; I'll call the jet back as soon as it drops off Damian." Batman said calmly, examining the girl as he spoke.

"No! I'll take her myself!"

The two Martian's flew into the sky, almost as fast as Kara had, and disappeared into the clouds.

* * *

Kara didn't have friends. She didn't have any acquaintances. So when she saw a familiar face on a balcony in the city, she drifted towards it a state of shock and numbness.

She landed in a heap on the stone floor before the man could catch her.

"Hey, are you alright? Wait, you're..."

Winn stopped short and stared in wonder at the woman in front of him. He helped her up and to a nearby chair, glad that the rest of Catco was already home for the night.

"Kara Wayne? Is that you? What happened to you?" He gently took her hand and looked her over, trying to decide where all the blood was coming from.

"Winn. You're the one from the restaurant." Kara stated weakly.

Winn nodded, glad that she was lucid.

"And you're Kara Wayne; the super-powered detective. Alright, seems totally logical. What can I do for you and how badly are you hurt?"

Kara laughed weakly and looked off into the distance.

"I'm not hurt."

The sense of urgency faded, and Winn pulled up a chair next to her.

"What happened? Or can you say...?"

"My brother is dead. My best friend was lying to me. So was my dad, and my cousin. I'm weak from Kryptonite and in shock after killing so many people. That's what happened."

Winn swallowed hard and pursed his lips, not sure of what to say.

"I... okay... So, should I call someone...?" He reached for his phone before her glare told him otherwise.

"Right. No, bad idea. Phone gone." He literally threw it over his shoulder and clasped his hands in front of him again.

"What can I do, then? What do you need?"

Kara closed her eyes and let her head slip forward into her waiting hands.

"I don't know. I can't deal with this right now; I can't process all of this. It's happening too fast!" Kara started to crack again, until Winn put his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, you're going to be alright! You're going to be okay!"

His honest, eager face and sincere smile seemed so refreshing to her. There was no anger, no malice, and no secrets waiting behind his expression. She stared at him for longer than she meant to, just enjoying the idea that he wasn't hiding anything.

"What makes you say that?" She asked, honestly curious.

Winn laughed and snorted, shaking his head as if she were stupid.

"Well, let's see. You're alive, for one thing, and by your own admission not hurt. You can fly, which is awesome. You're father is Bruce Wayne, that's kind of cool. Plus, you are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Life can't be that bad."

Kara smiled, amused and flattered at the thought. He had no clue what he was saying, and yet he'd said exactly what she'd needed to hear.

"What am I supposed to do now?"

Winn shrugged, obviously thinking on the fly.

"Go home, eat dinner? Call a friend or something? Do super-heroes have friends? I don't know. Find someone you trust and stick with them until whatever you just went through makes sense."

"I just did." She smiled up at him again, and he almost fell out of his seat.

"Wow! Okay, uh, cool, I guess then..."

"Winn?"

"Yep?"

"Could you be quiet for a minute?"

Winn bit his tongue and nodded, leaning back in his chair. She did the same, and they both turned towards the rest of the city. The moon was rising, and the stars were all out. She could see them more clearly up there; every constellation. Every shining light. It was a beautiful sight.

"I killed innocent people. I couldn't save them." She whispered softly.

"Don't do that again..." Winn said with a disturbed look.

"I let my friends and family lie to me."

"Yeah, they do that. Usually to protect us, though."

"I think my brother is dead."

"Sometimes people pass away. We just have to keep going, like they're still with us."

Kara turned to look at him, wondering how he'd gotten all these answers.

"I read a lot of comics, so..." He answered, seemingly reading her mind. "Wait, is your brother the guy in the restaurant? The one who was messing with me?"

Kara nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I thought so. I traced the email back to a Wayne computer and I figured that must have been him. So a guy named 'Southern-devil' emailed me photos of certain League members that were shot within like a few feet." Winn explained, shaking his head at the idea. "Impressed my boss enough to get me my own office and assistant. The Indian Death Goddess, no less."

"He's nice like that."

"See! Is. Not was. I'm sure he'll be fine." Winn pointed out.

"Maybe." Kara looked out over the horizon again, wondering what she should do next. She didn't have any easy answers; but a few solutions came to mind.

Silently, she lifted off again, without Winn even noticing. She flew into the clouds again, eyes closed and fists balled.

She couldn't be Detective Wayne anymore. And she'd have to stop telling people her name was Kara. Kara hated alter egos; but one in particular jumped out at her.

Superwoman.


End file.
